The People's Armor
by Mechalich
Summary: Kalat Arm story. A backwater cop must join up with an officer of the Discblade Alliance to discover the truth behind a wicked acquisition of thousands of slaves. Mastering the Force arts of the Zeison Sha and a 20,000 year old mystery lead to the truth.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Upon the Ashes**

**Ash Badlands, Lavestral**

**Laclim Sector**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Kamick shook a bit of pumice out of his boot, idly scanning the horizon as he did so. The gray sky stretched on into barren nothingness forever, or so it seemed. Ash and volcanic rock and nothing else unto the end of the world. It was a miserable vista, and he'd never loved it. Only outsiders found anything beautiful in the stark dark basalt-covered wastelands of the planet. He simply lived here.

The young man slipped his boot back on and slid into the seat of his landspeeder. Two hundred klicks to Havestram, the next settlement larger than a homestead. He figured he could make it with an hour or so before nightfall. It would be a decent place to stop on this segment of his outback patrol. He pulled back on the accelerator and kicked the vehicle into motion.

Accelerating around an ash flow Kamick caught a glimpse of something in the sky, a streak in the haze. He braked immediately, pulling about and up to the highest nearby point for a better vantage. Popping the landspeeder's canopy he grabbed the macrobinoculars from their resting place in the empty passenger seat and pulled them to his face.

There's a streak alright, he confirmed quickly. And fresh too, east-west pathway, maybe forty degrees declination. He tried to judge altitude, to guess the probable termination point of the trail cutting through the haze-coated sky. It wasn't easy, he didn't think it would pin down well. "North," he muttered, sloshing saliva around against the gritty atmosphere. "What's north?" His patrol region was massive by almost any standard, tens of thousands of square kilometers. The only saving grace was that it was mostly ash-coated wasteland, he was well beyond the radius of heavy land adaptation efforts. Kamick tried to plot matters against a mental map, but quickly gave up and grabbed a datapad off the dash.

"Oprail's Dojo's north," he pulled off the map. "Well damn." He looked at the trail again. Who or whatever it was, they were either already there or soon would be. He jumped backed into the landspeeder in a smooth motion born of endless repetition. It was the act of a second to plug the datapad into the center console and bring up Lavestral's limited central data net. He scowled as his suspicions were confirmed. There were no landings scheduled for Oprail's Dojo today or anytime this week. Nothing for the whole 48/60 sector in fact.

Kamick checked the emergency band next. Nothing. If is was an accident no one had called in or screamed in distress yet. He doubted it was anyway. He grabbed the landspeeder's embedded comlink. "This is Kilo-Tango," he grimaced. He wanted to kill the moron who'd simply used each officer's initials for cal-signs. "Calling Delta-Hotel," Even the dispatch headquarters had a lame identifier. "Possible unregistered landing in 48/60. Moving to investigate."

"Copy that Kilo-Tango," Kamick thought the voice belonged to Farns, a semi-retired officer without anything remotely resembling drive left in him. "Start time?"

Kamick glanced at his wrist chrono. "1636," he answered. "Estimate distance to contact at..." he looked at the map again and did a quick mental calculation. "One hundred and eighty klicks. Moving out." He didn't wait for Farns to respond with approval. He slammed the accelerator down and pushed the landspeeder to full.

Regrettably, maximum thrust wasn't what Kamick would have wished, the speeders they had to work with were old and always put through about ten too many repair jobs, but it would have to do. Besides, there was something to be said for screaming across a bleak ash-scape dodging outcroppings, dips, and outflows at close to three hundred klicks an hour. He rarely got the chance to push things.

As his eyes narrowed to laser focus on the terrain, the rest of the officer's mind moved on a secondary track of equal importance. Why would anyone bust in on Oprail's Dojo? There was nothing there except a bunch of martial artists and students playing at achieving enlightenment by learning to break rocks with their foreheads. It wasn't even a special dojo, there were dozens of the facilities scattered across Lavestral. Thanks Master Taishi, Kamick laughed bitterly. One famous nujit proclaims us the perfect training ground and within a decade we're positively infested with little camps. In fairness, the officer had to admit, the martial artists really weren't much trouble. They were secluded, didn't bother any neighbors they might have, and usually did a decent job of maintaining control of their own.

They also kept in touch with the rest of the galaxy pretty much exclusively through cargo airspeeder runs. Why in the galaxy would a ship burn hard on a direct course to such a place? He didn't like it at all. Unregistered landings were common enough, Kamick had seen a few even in his short tenure as an outback deputy, but they were usually more subtle than this.

Maybe it is some kind of nasty accident, he worried.

The landspeeder blasted across the landscape of volcanic leftovers at a steady clip, and there was nothing for the deputy to do but radio in to Farns at a thirty minute check point. He kept up the occasional glance at the sky. They were definitely down on the surface now, he was sure of it. And the trail didn't have the erratic look of an out of control vessel. Someone had landed at the dojo deliberately. Some big wig Core Worlder fan show up and think the rules don't matter? It had been known to happen, but Kamick's gut said it was nothing so benign. He was worried, and his grip tightened on the wheel.

Oprail's Dojo was settled into a small sheltered gorge, surrounded on three sides by the haunting hillsides formed when the lava had ceased to flow only a few millenniums in the past. It had a section of thick ash deposits used for agriculture, they all did. The volcanic soil was rich and fertile if you had the right plants and a few genetic tweaks. The little scattered enclaves were supposedly harbingers of a great greening to come, a bounty of foodstuffs growing everywhere in just a few centuries. Kamick didn't believe the hype, not really, though he kind of hoped his homeworld could bloom someday. I'll never see it anyway, he knew.

The gorge was extremely steep. Perfect for training intrepid martial artists, but bad on old-model landspeeders well past their prime. He had no real choice but to approach from the front. Kamick did so slowly, hugging the curves. He'd been to the dojo many times, as he had every place in his sector, and was hopeful he could creep in without being noticed.

The dojo complex was not large, and the majority of the buildings were sunk into the hillsides, to take advantage of the temperature moderation against the chill nights on the open ground of ashy desert. Most of the area in the gorge was either in crops or preserved as training grounds. There were no tall structures in the open. So it was that anything occupying such a space stood out clearly.

Kamick halted the landspeeder before the last bend and crept forward at a crawl, one hand on the controls and the other on his macrobinoculars. He craned forward and tried to glimpse around corners.

There is a ship! The deputy's face broke into a grin at this confirmation of his suspicions. He'd been right! An older, but still very functional Doomtreader was sitting parked in the middle of the dojo's practice field.

A moment later he fervently wished he'd been wrong.

There were figures in motion on the field, standing around the open boarding ramp of the freighter, apparently waiting for other to emerge from within the buildings.

Kamick zoomed in to max on one of these.

Seems human, he thought initially, though they wore heavy green outfits rather like soldiers might. Then he focused on the face.

His knuckles went white around the macrobinoculars.

Red hair, pointed ears, chin and brow with horned spurs. Zygerrians!

His heart pounding in his chest Kamick's next glimpse confirmed his worst fear. Two of the Zygerrians emerged from one of the buildings hauling a prone figure between them.

This was a slave raid.

Kamick took a deep breath, ordering his hands to stop shaking. He put the eyepiece down in the passenger seat and carefully pressed the lever for reverse. Using as little power as he could he pulled the landspeeder backwards, just a few meters, putting a massive mound of black basalt between him and everything he had just seen.

I am so dead, he thought in all seriousness.

There was a brief, utterly dysfunctional pause, and then the deputy's training, slipshod though it had been, slammed into place.

He grabbed the comlink. "This is Kilo-Tango to Delta-Hotel, I have a situation here."

"Copy that Kilo-Tango," Farns disinterested voice was terrifying to Kamick. "What is your situation?"

"I have a slave raid in progress at Oprail's Dojo, coordinates 48.56/60.12," he breathed into the comlink, hardly daring to make any noise. "Repeat, I have an active slave raid in progress. Raiders are based out of a Doomtreader freighter and are Zygerrians, repeat Zygerrians. Requesting immediate backup with all available units."

"Zygerrians?" There was a clatter from the other end. Kamick winched in the recognition that Farns had just overturned his chair, but at least the old man was engaged. "Are you under fire?"

"Negative, Delta-Hotel," Kamick prayed it stayed that way. "I appear to be undetected for the moment, but they're sure to notice me if they send someone this way or if the freighter takes off. I need backup!"

"Copy that," Farns replied. "We'll get you everything we've got, sit tight Kilo-Tango, and do not engage, I repeat, do not engage!"

I know that you nujit, Kamick barely refrained from screaming back into the comlink. I'm not going to take on who knows how many Zygerrians and a whole freighter by myself!

"Standing by," he managed. "Hurry up over there."

The comlink lapsed into silence, and with it went the meager distraction it had provided from a nigh overwhelming sense of impending doom. Kamick could do sums in his head well enough to know what he was up against. Lavestral was a minor colony, with few inhabitants and weak government. There wasn't another officer within five hundred kilometers. We could stack up every sheriff and deputy on the continent against these slavers and I'd call it maybe even odds. What can I do myself? He could only hope to go unnoticed and find some way to survive.

There was no point in making a break for it, the repulsors would surely be detected if he brought the engines to full. He had to hope to remain unnoticed and pray that when the Zygerrians launched they chose to ignore a single landspeeder as not worth blasting to bits. Given the general reputation of Zygerrian slavers, Kamick didn't like those odds.

He reached back to the back seat and wrenched free his riot shield. The meter-long plastoid rectangle wasn't precisely standard issue, but he'd kept his after tactics training. It was comforting, and lent weight to certain arguments. Drunken farmers didn't swing at you when you carried a shield. Wrapping the defensive device around his left arm he felt a little bit better. His blaster pistol rested in his hand on his lap, he was as ready as he could be.

A small clattering noise pulled the deputy's head left. Little bits of scree had rolled down the embankment sheltering him from the dojo.

They're here, Kamick somehow knew instantly.

He slapped open the door and rolled free of the landspeeder, coming up with blaster pistol at eye level, shield covering his body.

A tall Zygerrian, armed and armored for oppression, looked down from the ridge in surprise.

Kamick breathed in, feeling as if time had slowed down. His pistol came up, he took aim, and pulled the trigger all the way down.

A ruby red bolt slammed the alien dead in the chest.

The older DC blaster pistols issued to the officers of Lavestral were weaker than many models, but their tibana gas was good quality and the Zygerrian's armor a half-baked design more for style and intimidation than function. The slaver was dead instantly.

His body thudded down onto the iron hard volcanic earth.

There were shouts and many booted feet could suddenly be heard running in Kamick's direction. The officer turned, pulling back behind his speeder, even as a poorly aimed stun blast slammed the vehicle's front end. Come on then! His mind raged. At least I'll take a few with me!

Another Zygerrian appeared, crouching atop the ridge, firing as he crab-walked forward.

Kamick's shield deflected the first stun blast and he fired back repeatedly. The officer's ruby bolts were a deep contrast to the blue energy fields being used against him, but he knew the only impact he could make was to shoot to kill. Stunned Zygerrians would be fine in minutes. If he went down it was all over.

Dodging left Kamick fired not at the Zygerrian's silhouette, but at the ground before the alien, sending nasty shards of pumice into the air. Come on, up, up...he needed the reaction.

The slaver did not disappoint. Crying in pain the red haired alien bent upwards, putting a hand to his bleeding face.

Kamick shot him in the head, pulling the trigger again and again to make sure.

Then the stun blasts came from his right.

Rut! Kamick knew he was doomed even as he strove to turn. His body was out of position, shield on the wrong side, no cover from his speeder. He let his feet go, sliding downward to the ground to buy a moment, a stun blast barreling over his head. He got off a few wild shots in the direction of the red-haired foes, maybe he hit, maybe not, but then it was too late.

A stun blast struck him inside the shield on the left shoulder, and he collapsed to the volcanic earth and the blackness.

"I say we feed him to the scavengers and have done with it," Kamick's awareness returned to hear a harsh voice speaking guttural Basic in close proximity to his head.

"And I say he's a valuable piece of property," A deeper, firmer, but still crude voice answered the first.

Kamick blinked repeatedly, trying to grasp what was going on. Where am I? He wondered for a moment, as memory slowly returned. Oh, rut me...he recognized a moment later. Dimness was the rule of this place, he guessed some kind of cargo hold. He felt the cold touch of metal around his neck, and at both wrists, only belatedly realizing his hands were above his head. As vision cleared he looked up to see a pair of stun cuffs binding his hands. These were bound by a foot long chain to a durasteel bar sticking down from the ceiling. He was not hanging, but was shackled standing, hands extended, unable to sit or even properly bend over to relax. What are they doing to me? He wondered, and then, also, how long have I been like this?

It was a terrifying thought. Stun blasts only lasted for a few minutes, more than that and permanent neural damage would likely result. Am I going to be a cripple? These and other irrational thoughts surged through the deputy's brain for long moments until the voices bought him back to a focus on the present again.

It was two Zygerrians speaking, one, a head taller than the other, seemed to possess signs of authority.

It was the smaller one who objected. "He's a cop, and cops should all die!" He stressed. "He'll never serve."

"Oh I think he will, they all do, eventually," the tall Zygerrian smirked.

"But he's a cop!" the smaller one wasn't the brightest Zygerrian in the galaxy, Kamick thought, but he was obstinate. "His genetic code is in databases, what if he finds another cop and has it read?"

He's right, Kamick thought. I could do that. If his biometrics were run by any law enforcement database his identity would pop up immediately. It had been a program the Empire demanded of even Levestral's outback deputies. He'd always hated it, but now it seemed a sort of blessing. There's no way they can keep me as a slave, he thought it gleeful surprise.

This brightening emptied away into a dark abyss almost immediately. That means they'll just kill me then. Why haven't they done it yet?

"Where he's going that won't matter," the tall Zygerrian scoffed, and this seemed to shut the other one up while his dim mind searched for a proper response.

"He's still a risk," the other Zygerrian groused at length. "And he's dangerous. We're down two because of that rutting cop."

Two confirmed Kamick's memory, but it made him happy for a moment. He'd taken two down, despite being ambushed. How many others of the laid-back, worthless excuse for a police force that was Lavestral's deputies could manage the same? Even if you kill me, I've made my mark you bastards.

"And because we're down that means we must get more value from every body you fool," the tall one stopped short of slapping the smaller one, but he had clearly considered it. "I'm not wasting this one just because he happens to have had a badge slapped on him by some backwater colony."

Feeling terrible anxious watching this bickering, and the awkward chained position beginning to pain him, the deputy let out an involuntary groan.

Red-haired horned heads snapped around.

"Awake it would seem," the tall one noted. "Good, I was wondering if you were going to join us. Any longer and I might have given you to my man here to play with. You did kill his uncle after all."

Kamick found the remark stirred his anger and courage. "Like I care nujit," he spat as far as he could at the Zygerrians, and though it fell well short he was glad it made them step back. "I wish I'd taken more of you down. I suppose it'll be someone else to see you executed for this."

"My good man, you are quite the fool," the Zygerrian smiled cruelly. "What have we done? I assure you, slavery is quite legal under the new and glorious Galactic Empire."

"Don't think I'm an idiot just cause I'm from an ashy little planet," Kamick ground his teeth. "Slavery might be legal, this rutting raiding isn't even close, and if you think the Empire won't string you up for taking me, you're crazier than I thought, even for a Zygerrian."

The other man scowled, and Kamick smiled at his annoyance. That trick might work on provincial bumpkins, but not on someone who'd read even the barest bit of legal news. Kamick hated the Empire, but whatever faults they had, many fleet captains were sticklers for the letter of the law. Most also hated Zygerrians. Then again, that was true of just about anyone.

"It seems you have a bit of a brain as well as brawn," the slaver's smirk returned. "You may actually be a competent officer of the law, how unusual for this sector. Well, well, I may have underestimated you a bit, but it makes no difference. Lavestral isn't coming after us, indeed, I bet we could buy their silence for a pittance if necessary," Kamick's heart sank into a perilous place, but he could not deny the slaver's words. The cash-strapped government of a tiny colony wasn't wasting resources trying to retrieve an overzealous deputy gone missing. There would be a bulletin about it, and maybe a few local news stories, and then it would be all over but for the mourning of his parents. He hoped the government would at least do them the favor of saying he'd died in action. It would be a kindness.

"But we shall not have to bother," the slaver went on. "You have not told anyone anything useful about us, and you won't be telling anyone else where you're going," Again the odd reference. The deputy's police mindset wondered how the man could be so confident. He'd seen videos of slave auction blocks, a prize could pass into any number of hands, how could he know what was to happen? "However," and now the Zygerrian smiled, pulling his chin horns wide and menacing. "There are things you could certainly tell us." Slowly the slaver paced around the small confined space. "Tell me," he demanded in a calm voice. "How did you find our ship? Who alerted you to our presence? Did someone from the dojo put out a distress signal perhaps?"

The answer wasn't important, the deputy knew that, but he refused to give in to this lowlife scum of a slaver with his pretensions of sophistication. "Choke on it nujit," he barked in reply.

"Obstinate, typical of a cop," The Zygerrian took a step back, and then pulled a small device from an alcove on the wall. "But you may find resistance to be very costly."

The Zygerrian shifted the device in his hand, revealing it to Kamick as nothing but a pad and a button. "Perhaps you expect me to let my comrade here have at you with fists and knives and so forth?" he raised an eyebrow, waiting for the deputy's reaction. "That won't happen. Such crude practices damage the goods, and are bad for crew discipline. Superior beings such as the Zygerrian race must avoid such things." He grinned, all teeth. "Despite this, the master's commands must be obeyed, and obedience must be enforced. Technology, thankfully, offers a simple and effective measure. You may be amazed to discover just what can be done by altering the settings on a normal pair of stun cuffs."

Kamick took a deep breath. He wasn't ready for this, could anyone be ready for this? What do I do? Would telling the man outright even work? Did the Zygerrian actually desire the truth, mundane though it was? Rut it, the deputy decided. He couldn't accept backing down now, he'd at least make the nujit slaver push the button.

"So I'll ask one more time, will you tell me how you discovered us? Or do I have to do this the difficult way. You should know, resistance is not something I desire, as it is a sign of foolishness and failure to properly comply with the needs of ones superiors, which of course reflects badly on me." He said that, but the grin of anticipation revealed the lie for what it was, pure pretentiousness. Maybe Darth Vader could give that little speech for real, Kamick thought bitterly. This bastard's just a crook with a serpent tongue.

"Stop blathering and get on with it," Kamick spat.

"As you wish."

With a savage exhalation of joy the Zygerrian pushed the button and the screaming began.

Kamick awoke in darkness, surrounded by strange scents and the press of nearby bodies. He could see nothing, but was wrapped in some kind of restraining mesh. Feeling to each side he caught reflexive reactions, other flesh shying away from contact with his own. They've got us packed in like droids! He realized in horror. His bowels were hooked up to some kind of filtration system to maintain cleanliness, and he would bet there was an IV somewhere for nutrition. The slavers probably hose and soap the whole place down periodically. It was terrifying, being trapped in this way, knowing others were on all sides.

It was not so horrifying as his memories. The pain, oh the pain, it still lingered in his mind, utterly intense. Worse than the pain was the failure. He'd tried to resist, tried with everything he had to avoid saying anything, but in the end he'd told the Zygerrian exactly what he'd wanted. He'd spotted the trail on patrol. That had been all. There had been more pain to follow as the slaver confirmed his answer, but nothing hurt so much as the failure. They'd beaten him, these disgusting slavers had beaten him.

What kind of cop am I? I can't face the criminals in the eye. The grief tormented him here in the dark, where the reality of doom was overwhelming. He was a slave now, and if the Zygerrians were to be believed, he had no chance of escape for the rest of his days. Is this it? Kamick wondered. My life come to an end at twenty-two, with three years in the service as my only legacy?

The darkness offered no answers.

For a time the torment of his grief and pity overwhelmed him, but with no stimuli the mind eventually lost focus on it and returned to other distractions.

Dark as empty space though the cargo hold was, there was sound. The slavers had rigged up some kind of white noise generator to obscure any possibly coherence, but there were bits and pieces there, and it dawned on the deputy that he was hearing a great many languages. Fragments of Basic floated about to be sure, but so did many other languages, and not all were common. A snippet of Bocce there, a phrase in what he thought was Huttese here, but the rest was improbably strange, odd sounds bearing no resemblance to anything he'd ever heard before.

Who are these beings? Why did the slavers go after them? In fact, he wondered in morbid curiosity. "Why did they hit the dojo at all?" As a cop he'd had some training in how to think like criminal, and the action made no sense. The dojo was a low-density site, unsuited for a mass raid. It had a mixed-species population, so there was no appeal to find some niche product. Moreover, as a dojo it was filled with martial arts students and teachers, practitioners of unarmed combat and mental discipline, people likely to make the very worst types of slaves. Why did they hit the place? Why does he think I'll never speak of this again?

Over a time, Kamick had no way to know how long it was in the darkness, the deputy developed a theory. The Zygerrians weren't acting on their own. Someone had paid them to hit the dojo, and wherever else they'd hit on this trip. This backer, whoever it was, had some agenda, and was going to buy all of the slaves up en masse. Why someone would do that he could not fathom, but he was sure in his gut it was the right theory. It offered a tiny bit of small solace as the freighter blasted out of hyperspace and hurtled its sentient cargo towards whatever terrible fate awaited them.

Chapter Notes

Slang – the term Nujit refers to a kind of disgusting vermin endemic to the region. Rut is a legitimate term of course, but it is used as a curse word by Epherments (who have actual mating ruts) and has been popularized across the Kalat Arm as a result.

Technical Banter – Kamick uses existing radio code, gives coordinates in lat/long terms and so forth. Creating a parallel system would be overly time consuming and probably confusing to boot.

KR-TB 'Doomtreader' freighters are canonical vessel class from before the Clone Wars.

Zygerrians are a canonical race. Slavery is kind of what they do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Breaking Forth**

**Dockyards, Ablerin**

**Laclim Sector**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

"Final check everyone," Jia Ji looked around to her squad. "All ready?"

A small chorus of nods answered the whisper.

"Good," she turned her head ever so slightly to her wrist-mounted comlink. "Blue Team to Leader, at the ready and standing by."

"Copy that," the sonorous voice of Captain Juro, their Duros commander, replied. "Wait for my signal. Stage one commencing in three minutes."

"Understood," Ji silenced the connection, knowing there was nothing to do now but wait. She held herself to be calm, breathing easy, resisting the urge to check her weapon one more time, to give some final reminder to the team. Everything that can be done has been done, she told her itching nerves. Anything more will only be detrimental. As she had been schooled she kept her body fluid but firm, all in readiness.

I am still. There is no wind over the pond.

Silence encompassed ten individuals in a dark tunnel, each in its own way nervous, each burying that beneath the need to be professional, silent, and patient. All waited upon Ji for the signal to let it lapse and unleash their fury.

Three minutes in, the operation began. Thirty seconds later there came the sound of blasterfire, as the skirmishers engaged the initial pickets, drawing reinforcements to their feint. Hearing this Jia Ji winced. Those men were well trained and well armored, but the enemy sported powerful weapons and no doubt good marksmen of their own. Their would be casualties. The vise of pressure tightened upon her a revolution, knowing those loses would be for nothing if the rest of the plan failed.

At five minutes a series of explosions broke across the auditory landscape, the fire of a grenade mortar, the precious weapon being used to pin down the enemy response, hold them in place even as the skirmishers were reinforced by the main attack. All would be ready to crash through the enemy once they were broken.

It fell to Jia Ji's squad to do the breaking.

"Blue Team, go on my mark," Captain Juro ordered. "Mark!"

In a calm, ordinary voice Ji spoke two words. "Commence attack."

Ten bodies surged forward down the tunnel.

Ji's heart pounded in her chest, her body felt on fire from the surge of adrenalin, and from the pressure bearing upon her.

The tunnel was an old bulk air exchange duct, used before the most recent upgrade to Ablerin's airflow system, back when massive fans had been needed to keep air moving across the barren landscape of the asteroid tunnel base. No longer used, it still provided access to the target docking bay. It had been Jia Ji who found the tunnel, scouring the old maintenance archives. Now it was her plan that led a surprise attack down this secret entrance. Should it fail, all the blame would be hers alone, and the dead.

A durasteel plate had been used to patch the tunnel of course, and so it was Leviil who led the way. The Rodian was their only pro with a det charge.

Long green fingers extending around the valuable explosive, the thin alien ducked back with a wave of the hand, throwing himself to the ground in front of the rest of the squad.

The plate blasted out, revealing the docking bay.

"Attack!" Ji commanded, howling at the top of her lungs, knowing the hearing of the rest of the squad was at least as impaired as her own.

The others obeyed, jumping down the two meters to the deck plating of the docking bay, searching for targets and opening up with all kinds of lethality.

The red-coated, fifty meters long, and wide-winged hull of a Correllian KR-TB freighter, known commonly as a 'Doomtreader,' occupied the center of the docking bay. Large empty spaces surrounded it, for this landing platform had been designed for bulk ore haulers, and in that openness lay opportunity, enemy, and death.

A lone opponent, red hair in braids whipping behind him, was the first to turn at the sound. He was halfway between the cover of the vessel and the fighting near the docking bay's front gate, a lethargic reinforcement not yet reaching the front lines. Turning now he tried desperately to level a blaster rifle at this sudden new threat.

Ji was not the first to react among her squad, but her rifle was aimed in time to add its fire to those of her troopers.

Bang! The loud report of her weapon echoed amongst the din of battle, joining similar sounds and crashing over the lighter output of blasters and their energy beams. Her shoulder winced at the kick of the slugthrower, for she not a large woman, but her body was long used to the rigors of the weapon, and focused down the barrel.

Caught completely in the open the lone enemy was pierced by multiple bolts and slugs, his body smashed to the deck and ruined in a moment.

The focus of Jia Ji was already shifting, she was not only a soldier, able to consider one enemy at a time, but a commander, and had to lead her troopers. They were exposed here, and needed to advance or take cover.

Most of the enemy had bought the feint, and were gone to the docking bay doors, to engage in the firefight in the hallways there. A few, however, remained with their vessel. A quick glance caught half a dozen red-haired profiles by the boarding ramp of the Doomtreader. "Advance, take the ship!" Ji called out. "Hedde," she ordered one trooper. "Covering fire!"

Hedde was a Herglic, and as one of the members of that bulky cetacean species had barely fit in the tunnel at all. Now, far from being a liability, two and quarter meters of height and almost that much width made him a walking weapons platform.

The squad charged forward as Hedde leveled his weapon and unloaded. Ji was sure the Herglic soldier could have carried an E-Web on his own, but lacking such a weapon for their arsenal they'd settled on the next best option: a belt-fed cryo-managed slugthrower repeater capable of spewing forth close to three thousands slugs in a single minute.

Against troops huddled against the durasteel hull of a starship the slugthrower was almost worse than a blaster, for instead of dissipating harmlessly against hull plating, the distended metal bits ricocheted in every direction, striking around and past cover. A ricochet was unlikely to penetrate armor or kill, but three thousand rounds had a way of generating a substantial amount of freakish bad luck.

Several foes went down, hit by Hedde's fire or supporting shots from squad members who sensed an opening. Ji felt a surge of hope. They had them!

Then the Herglic was spun down, a blaster burn rising from his shoulder.

Ji's vision took a moment to encompass the wound as less than mortal, but enough to remove Hedde from combat, then her eyes latched onto the impact angle and traced back.

There were a pair of enemies atop the Doomtreader's hull.

She snapped a shot at them, not in hope of hitting, but simply to drive them back.

The opposing marksmen stood fast.

So they have courage, Ji had to admit of her foes. Brutes and wretches though they were, they were not cowards. "Scatter!" She called to her troops, knowing it was bad. The marksmen had wisely waited until she had committed to the charge to reveal their presence. Now her entire squad was vulnerable, and they dared not lose the momentum of the rush. She had to press on despite the elevated foe.

But she was not helpless. "Drado!" Ji commanded. "Take out the top!"

Responding with an affirmative grunt in his own language, the green-skinned alien in the circular hat, previously at Ji's left, kicked into an entirely different motion.

His speed was phenomenal, and without slacking a bit from a full run he raised his long blaster, flicked over modes, and launched the under-slung grappling hook at the top of the Doomtreader.

The cable wrapped around the central bridge tower several times, and then Drado pulled back a lever and the cable began to retract.

Ji watched as her ally took great loping strides, shifting back and forth to make himself a difficult target, and then surged into the air, releasing the tension on the cable as he did so.

Marksmen took careful aim and fired, but Drado pulled on the cable with his left hand, shifting his direction, seeming to defy the laws of motion entirely.

The shots went wide.

Limber green limbs let go of the rifle as he sailed in toward the Doomtreader. Drado's hands dropped to folds in his armor, and snapped free holding a sharp blade in each.

Both sailed at the first marksman, even as Drado crouched and rolled onto the ceiling of the Doomtreader, skidding across the red hull plates at brutal speed.

The enemy ducked in a last ditch escape attempt and the first knife was high, but the second, thrown lower, took him in the throat.

Swinging around the second rifleman bore down on Drado, but the warrior sprung upright and launched a rapid snap kick, sending the shot to the roof of the docking bay. Before his opponent could recover the soldier slipped a knife into his gut in three quick jabs.

The blaster rifle clattered to a stop against the back of Drado's booted feet.

For the heavies the Herglic, for the killing the Kyuzo, so went the unofficial squad motto, one Ji had never found it in her to bother to suppress.

No longer facing attack from above, the eight charging squad members could advance unhindered. Jia Ji saw one foe make a mistake, sliding away from the boarding ramp as if contemplating running. She stopped, aimed, and fired in a single second, drilling a slug through his skull, ending one threat. Seconds later the rest of the resistance ceased.

"Move up and take defensive positions," Ji commanded. "Stenam, check the boarding ramp, Leviil, approaches. Everyone reload and check in." She acted on her own advice, sliding into a crouched position covered by the red-haired body of one of her fallen opponents. There she reloaded her weapon, gave it a two-second check and raised her wrist comlink. "Drado, I want you to take up the position you just forced the enemy to vacate. Without Hedde you're our fire support for the final phase."

The Kyuzo warrior replied in the affirmative.

"Ready," Ji called to her squad. "Everyone?"

A chorus of 'ready' was returned.

"Good, they'll be coming," she noted carefully, and switched from squad to command channel. "Captain, this is Blue Team. We're in position, ready for stage five."

"Stage five is go," the Captain answered. "Commence general attack!"

Out by the doors there was a storm of fire as a considerable number of hidden attackers suddenly laid in with mass fire, providing the appearance of heavy reinforcements instead of the modest actual surge truly present. The enemy, pinned and being pounded upon by superior numbers, now lost hope. They fell back, hoping to reach the safety of their ship.

They were about to discover there was no safety left for them.

The red hair was a telling mark, easily marking out the enemy. "Hold fire," Ji instructed, waiting a terribly slow count of five to insure the enemy could not dive back to cover and make this end a bloody mess.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

"Fire at will!"

Drado's blaster spoke first, the T21 Light Repeating Blaster had more range and power than any of the hand weapons of the rest of the squad, bless the stormtrooper they'd killed for it. The limited armor of the enemy was no match for it, and he had a clear shot to everyone. Body after body was spun to the ground by quick bursts of deadly ruby rain.

The enemy kept running, now realizing what had happened but seeing only a handful of opponents before them. It was charge or die, and they were not ones to simply sit and die.

Ji's fire joined in with Drado and the rest of the squad, though she had no clear hits. Blasterfire from the other direction added to that of her squad, a deadly crossfire from which there was no escape.

Even as their feet moved the enemy had to know they were doomed, but they made no move to surrender, there was no quarter on this day.

Some made it startlingly close. Jia Ji watched, pulling her weapon around, as a foe moved within ten meters, close enough to highlight the horns on his chin. He raised his own blaster pistol, firing wild shots in the hope of a kill before the end, never slackening pace.

The ground below him detonated.

The mangled body slammed sideways into the ground, victim of one of Leviil's powder charges.

Ji turned her weapon back to the center only to discover the fighting had ended. It was over, the enemy had been wiped out.

"Stenam," she told her human second. "Take half the squad and secure the inside of the ship." The man nodded and began shouting names. "Leviil, see to Hedde and any other wounded. The rest rearm and standby." Rearm was code to scavenge. It would be a quick process to field strip the fallen enemies for weapons, armor, and anything else that might be useful. Everything of value had to be saved. Ji had a different objective beyond such material concerns, however. It was time to see what the aftermath would bring. She went looking for Captain Juro.

She found him near the door. The gray-faced captain looked tired, but then he always did, he was not young and remained troubled by old Clone Wars injuries. He was directing the rest of the group to medical and scavenging duty, and also the erection of a stronger barricade in front of the docking bay. The other two team leaders had already gathered.

"Everyone here, good," He looked at them with those large Duros eyes. "A victory, eh?" The Captain managed a smile. "A real, solid victory, and with light losses as well I think." he looked at Ji, who nodded in confirmation. It had not been bad, Cass had taken a bad hit at the end from a stray bolt, would probably be under for a while, but she thought there would be no deaths. It was a blessing, and a rarity.

"Not a victory against the Empire, though," Iyr, the Twi'Lek squad leader, grumbled under his breath.

Juro didn't reprimand him. He can be too kind, Ji thought. "Maybe not," the captain amended. "But if you think hitting Zygerrian slavers won't help us against the Empire you're sorely mistaken. This gang was well armed and overly arrogant. We got them here and we'll take their ship out of the deal. That was worth it." So it was, Ji acknowledged. Doomtreaders were valuable, durable and tough, and the Discblade Alliance needed every last ship. "Still, this isn't a free pass. Iyr, I need you to take the barricade. The other gangs running this place aren't going to like this one bit, and they're going to need to know it'll cost them too much blood to protest. Venm," he ordered the other team leader. "Take your team down to docking bay eight and make sure its secure. I don't want anyone getting ideas about our camp either." Both squad leaders nodded at these orders.

Tired or not, Ji sensed Juro was playing a dangerous game. The pirates, smugglers, gangs, and other outlaws making use of Ablerin as a transshipping point had no loyalties to each other, but press them too hard and they'd swarm under the offender out of collective fear. Juro's cell didn't have the strength to fight them all. This attack had been pressing it considerably. She suspected the captain would relocate everything in only a few days, she had almost expected him to do so immediately.

"Ji, get back to that ship and get it sorted out. I want everything off, we're going to re-rig her for our use as soon as possible. First I need you to take care of the cargo." Juro gave a grim shake of the head. "I'll leave that to your discretion."

Ji was momentarily puzzled. The cargo? Why should that be so important, they would simply sell it to whichever gang was bidding if it was not valuable to operations...Then she recalled who they were fighting.

Slaves. This was likely to get complicated. She made a note to grab a datapad.

"Stenam, what is the status of this vessel?" Jia Ji hurried back to the Doomtreader and up the boarding ramp at a quickly clip. She had a feeling they needed to clear these slaves quickly. It was the single largest obstacle to the cell vacating Ablerin for safe hideaways.

Stenam, tall, lanky, and bearded, poked his head out of the cockpit access looking as if he'd been working on the ship for years. "Ma'am," he nodded to her. "The ship's named the _Coldclasp,_ formerly property of the Coldiron Conglomerate slaving band. She's a piece of work for sure."

"Meaning?" Ji asked skeptically.

"Meaning they did a number of this fine lady to convert her from standard cargo to slaves," he scowled, and Ji was glad it left him feeling as off-put as she. "The entire secondary hold's been filled in with water and food storage, air exchanging equipment, and a set of distribution lines that connect over to the primary hold. That," his expression grew darker. "Is filled in with VioMesh Netting."

"What's that?" Ji didn't like the sound of it at all.

"It's a plastic netting that's usually used in the food processing industry to house poultry prior to slaughter. It's extremely strong, has a chemical resistant polymer structure preventing almost any stains, and uses an internal chemical molecular reaction to radiate room temperature heat," he read the details of a datapad. "It's rutting sick is what it is."

"Yes, so it is," Ji tried very hard to push the image of people herded like ducks from her mind. She almost succeeded. "Well, it's ended. Are we started bringing them up?"

"Yeah," Stenam acknowledged. "I've got Leviit and two of the guys overseeing it. We're gathering them in the open for now. I haven't got better ideas."

"Do they have a spokesman?" Ji wondered. "Someone we can talk to? Wait," she recognized she was getting ahead of herself. Begin at the beginning, Ji. "How many slaves are there?"

"I pulled the data from the ship's comp, these guys had decent security, but it was unencrypted," Stenam tossed her the data pad.

Catching the bulky object easily Ji looked to see he'd pulled up a list. "Count's two hundred and twenty-eight," Stenam revealed. "Looks like they could hold two-fifty at max capacity, and they were pretty close."

Ji looked at the list of entries. "This is very sparse," she muttered in dismay.

"Yeah, they sure were bastards," Stenam agreed. "Not even names on there. Just species, gender, ages by category, height, and weight. Rutting brutal."

Quickly Ji scrolled through a selection of the listing, concentrating on the species category, the only one with any real data to work with. "Aruzan, Mirialian, Genber, Echani, Zeltron, Wroonian, Arkanian, Lairon, Ya-Ang, Velabri, Ogemite...this doesn't make sense."

"Huh?" Stenam sounded puzzled, but Ji wasn't looking at him, she was rushing down the list, eyes flying through entry after entry.

"No Rodians, no Duros, no Humans, maybe believable," she muttered, mind whirling. Those species weren't really valuable as slaves from what she knew of he black market. "No Zabraks, no Kerkoidens, no Khil, no Sullustans, this is illogical..." she went on rushing to the end of the list, seizing on one all important fact, something to confirm the ridiculousness of the pattern. "This is impossible." She breathed.

"What's impossible? Just some weird statistics," Stenam shrugged. "They must have hit a refugee ship or something."

"No," Ji shook her head. She was rarely certain of many things, but she was certain of this. This was abnormal. Something was wrong with the cargo of this slave ship. "There are no Twi'Leks on this list." She said it with finality. "Not one."

"What?" Stenam's head snapped around. He was not an intellectual man, but he could grasp that.

The Twi'Lek population of Laclim Sector was unknown, the Empire had not been able to conduct a viable census, but estimates ranged from twelve to twenty-five percent. Twi'Lek women were consistently sought after as slaves, there was always, always, a market for them. For a ship to have two-hundred twenty-eight slaves obviously taken from surrounding regions and have no Twi'Lek girls aboard simply did not fit with Jia Ji's understanding of reality. "What is the secret behind this?" She spoke so only she could hear. "I will find out."

Turning to Stenam she commanded. "Get them up, I'll examine them outside. After that, start getting the ship ready. I'm sure Captain Juro will send a slicer over to hack the system."

"Yes ma'am," Stenam was reliable on a task.

Jia Ji headed back out the boarding ramp, then paused. "Oh, one more thing," she called back to Stenam. "Try to find some paint, and put the word out, we're taking nominations for a new name for this ship. She deserves better."

"Right!" Stenam called back, and Jia Ji felt much better for making sure that was being overseen. The ship was a good one, Doomtreaders were well built. She deserved more than a slaver's legacy to be brought into the Discblade Alliance.

The slaves were being gathered outside in a mass, half of her squad watching them, weapons held back, but not at ease. There were many species here, and such a mix was unpredictable, who knew if some of the slaves might not take a strike at their liberators. No, Ji stopped herself. They are not slaves, not anymore. We do not keep slaves. They are simply refugees now, scattered about by war, like so many others.

Many of the slaves were talking, struggling to speak to the soldiers or to each other. Their voices made up an incoherent babble. Some spoke Basic, but others clearly lacked that faculty.

Drado stood watch from one of the wings of the Doomtreader, repeating blaster at the ready. It was not in the Kyuzo to trust easily. He noticed Jia Ji's approach and jumped down to meet his commander. He quickly muttered something in his own language.

"We will do our best to send those who have homes back, otherwise the Discblade Alliance will try and find a use for the rest," Ji responded to the question. Languages were not her best subject, but she had studied hard to learn several, and had made an effort to understand the Kyuzo tongue. "I admit it is likely to be difficult. How many do you think speak Basic?"

Drado rumbled a terse answer.

"Half's not so bad, we could do a lot worse," she caught skeptical look in the yellow eyes. "They could all be from unknown worlds," she noted.

The warrior fell silent at that, but Ji did not take this for much. She was better at reading the Kyuzo than most, but he was still rather opaque. He tended to be silent in regard to a great many things. "I don't think they're dangerous," she looked out at the crowd and noted they were all too overwhelmed simply by being out of the dark cargo hold to do much of anything. "Go see if you can track down a translator would you, we'll need it."

In a flash the warrior was about it, as she'd known he would be. The team leader walked over to Leviit. The Rodian was giving each of the refugees a once-over with his medikit's scanner as they were brought out of the hold. "How is it?" She asked.

"Not too bad boss," Leviit replied, never taking his eyes off the flow. "The Zygerrians believed in quality control, these people are all in good health and don't have any obvious problems. Disorientation and some issues with confinement is all, though it seems none were in much longer than about two weeks. Those slavers were busy for red-hairs."

"Very good, keep checking," Ji looked around for a moment before finding the person she sought. She caught the glossy black of a Herglic bulk lounging against a landing strut. "Are you feeling shipshape Hedde?" she asked the gunner upon approach.

"No problems," the Herglic's big voice practically boomed, just as she was anticipating. "A little bit of burn bandaging, some pain meds, some topical lotion, and I'm all set for another round." He grinned wide enough to swallow Ji's head and then some. "Just need to find me a keg of some decent ale."

"I think we should save the kegs for later," Like seemingly everything else he did, when it came to drinking, quantity was a big part of Hedde's approach. "If you're up for it, I've got a small job for you."

"What's that ma'am?" Hedde, like most Herglics, was almost friendly to a fault. Ji had a feeling she could ask him to take on a Stormtrooper legion by himself and he'd agree. Not that she'd ever even joke about something so foolish.

"I want to organize these refugees a little, the current arrangement is unmanageable," she explained. "To begin, I'd like you to sort them by language, Basic speakers first, then Bocce, then Huttese, and then everything else." Ji could speak all three languages well, and most of the soldiers knew at least some Bocce or Huttese. She figured that would keep them busy until Drado found a translator.

"Right," Hedde raised himself up and strode out amongst the refugees.

There was considerable skidding backwards at his approach. "Oooo-kay then," the Herglic bellowed, instantly getting everyone in the docking bay's attention. "All you folks listen up. I need everyone who speaks Basic over there," he pointed massive arm.

Satisfied that things were well underway, Ji quickly jogged back to Juro's side of things and found a folding desk and stool, still essential military tools eons after their first invention. She got back and got set up on the edge of the refugee group just as Hedde was finished up. It gave her a moment to study the group, considering who to call forth first. The slaver list was not well organized, she suspected it went by the order they'd been added to the hold, so she studied the group instead, looking for a likely candidate.

Scanning over the group she realized something she hadn't quite processed before. They are all near-human. It was odd. Such peoples were abundant in the galaxy of course, humanity had diversified in a way perhaps no other species had, but it could not be a coincidence. This was part of the strange pattern, simply revealed in different fashion. Nothing but near-humans, why would slavers go after those alone?

No, she recognized as he gaze scanned through the crowd. It is not all near-humans. There was single human, or at least he seemed completely so, among the group. He was a young man, with a rough but steel-eyed look, seated patiently near the front of the Basic-speakers. One human only? Ji wondered. Perhaps he knows something. Well, she determined. That is as good a place to start as any.

"You there," Jia Ji stood and pointed at the young man. "Yes, you sir, step forward, I'll speak to you first."

**Chapter Notes**

Jia Ji has oriental stye nomenclature, so Ji is her given name and Jia her surname.

Herglic and Kyuzo are both canon species. The Kyuzo were introduced in the Clone Wars TV Episode 'Bounty Hunters.'

When Ji comments on the list of species she is comparing it to commonalities regionally and in the galaxy as a whole, which combines my own design for the Kalat Arm region with canonical information.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Insecure Windfall**

**Captured Dockyard, Ablerin**

**Laclim Sector**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

When light had first flooded the cargo hold Kamick had initially taken it as a sign of doom. Surely it was the Zygerrians come to deliver them to whoever had arranged this madness to begin with. Instead he was greeted by a pair of armed humans and a Rodian. They were soon joined by others, and proceeded to open the cargo bay door and start ripping the netting out. It was the last act that convinced Kamick he was not being sold. Whatever these people's motives, if they had been at all affiliated with the slavers they would preserve the expensive netting.

Kamick was not first out, nor was he last, but even the brief period of waiting as they got to his position was interminable. He tried to watch these strange liberators, but couldn't focus on it, instead hope and dread warred through him in massive swings. When they puled him down he was bursting with questions. "Where am I? Who are you? What's going on?"

These people, and though they wore scatter-shot uniforms the deputy was quick to recognize they must be soldiers of some kind, were obviously quickly growing sick of hearing the questions. They responded tersely. "We're Discblade Alliance buddy, and we've just kicked in some Zygerrian heads," the second was said with obvious pride. "We're just taking you out, the boss'll sort you guys out in a minute, or maybe the Captain."

The Rodian gave him a quick medical scan at the exit of the ship and then motioned for the deputy to sit down in a group with the rest of the freed slaves, all milling with no real idea what to do. Stang, Kamick thought. There were that many inside? He watched as more and more were released, and gathered an estimate of about two hundred. So many, it was hard to fathom. Freedom overwhelmed him in the docking bay, and a massive thundering relief. The ordeal was over, and though he was a failure, it had not saved the Zygerrians, they'd been caught and defeated. A quick scan revealed some of the soldiers had piled up gear and armor they must have taken fom Zygerrian bodies. Dead then, Kamick guessed. Well how about that? Miserable rutting bastards deserved it for sure.

How long was I in? The deputy questioned. The darkness had stolen time from him, but it didn't feel like that long. He looked at his fingernails after a moment. Some growth, but not too much. A few days he figured, maybe a week. Long enough to get from Lavestral to here, wherever here happened to be, and maybe a stop or two on the way. I can't have gone too far, he noted. Not if they're Discblade Alliance.

He didn't know much about the resistance, not really. They were named after the weapons of the Zeison Sha, the Force users, and he didn't know much about them either. Lavestral was an unimportant world, and on the edge of their stomping grounds. They fought the Empire though, and Kamick supported that. The Empire was ruining the galaxy, especially this part of it. He'd never really met anyone from the resistance before though. Lavestral wasn't host to fighting, and the outback was a barren land. He'd heard there was a cell in the spaceport, but it'd been years since he'd visited. Well, I suppose I'm meeting them now, he shrugged. I wonder what they want with us?

Several of the other freed slaves chattered amongst themselves, asking similar questions, but Kamick avoided joining in their banter. They were not really together after all, and he looked around to realized none of them were quite human. Near-humans the lot, which he thought a bit odd, but who knew with the Zygerrians? They'd been a twisted bunch. I'm not with them anyway, the deputy realized after a moment's thought. These ones were captured to be slaves. I was taken to be kept quiet, they just figured selling me was good business. The Discblade Alliance members might not realize it, but his situation was different than that of the other two-hundred beings surrounding him. He just needed a chance to prove it.

So Kamick watched the resistance fighters go about their tasks, wondering who would make decisions to determine their fates.

He first caught sight of the woman when the green-skinned alien jumped off the Doomtreader's wing. It was an obvious motion to draw the eye. The alien was impressive, tall and thin, but powerfully muscled and wearing some kind of armored robes and a strange circular metal hat. Kamick did not recognize the species, but he was clearly dangerous. The woman, by contrast, seemed harmless. She was small, the alien topped her by head and shoulders, and thin, but she moved with a deliberate, elegant grace. She did not wear an obvious uniform, instead displaying a sharply blouse and split skirt in gray with soft blue-green undertones. Her black hair was mostly bound up in a bun by a silver ribbon, but two loose thumb-width strands hung down on each side of her face, framing it. Kamick could not see her face clearly, or the weapons she wore, but the alien clearly obeyed her.

He did not stare, but kept track of this woman's movements as she traveled about speaking to various resistance members. At least until the Herglic came over. The deputy had only ever seen one of the massive aliens once before, in the spaceport as a child. That memory was of an impressive but somewhat clumsy creature struggling to fit into an environment built for smaller beings. This one was different. The cetacean alien was unarmed, and his right shoulder was newly bandaged from some injury in the fighting, but his body was all power. This was not a being to squeeze through doors, this was someone who opened his own holes. Kamick figured the Herglic could probably inflict a mortal wound just by falling on him wrong.

The others came to the same realization, so when the Herglic started giving orders, everyone obeyed. Kamick found himself sitting to one side of a group of his fellow Basic speakers, waiting again. His gaze wandering he saw the woman return and set up a desk and stool. Ah, she is an officer, he confirmed. So, now they're going to decide matters.

The deputy could get a better look at her from close range. She wore a rifle over her back, and her belt held what could only be slugthrower cartridges. So, the resistance hasn't got enough blasters, shame. Her belt also held a strange cylindrical device, perhaps two decimeters in length that he didn't recognize but stood out against her split skirts. She had a soft, gentle face, with rounded features and narrow eyes, revealing an ancestry different from his own, though she was clearly human. Her figure was fine, but quite slender and rather formal in bearing. He thought she must be close to his own age, perhaps a little older, and only barely pretty.

Then to Kamick's complete surprise she called him up first.

After confirming that this woman was indeed pointing at him, the deputy shrugged, stood, and walked forward cautiously. Why did she pick me? He wondered.

She smiled softly as he approached her camp desk, but it was clearly a forced motion. Though tightly controlled, Kamick could tell this woman was uncomfortable with this situation almost as much as he was. What is supposed to happen here? He had no idea, even memories of holodramas gave little indication as to what to do with liberated slaves.

"I am Jia Ji," she said clearly, speaking in a soft but well-articulated voice. Her Basic had none of the coarse accents the deputy was used to. Could she be from the Core Worlds? "I am a squad leader for the Discblade Alliance, by whose grace you have been freed from these Zygerrians. It has been tasked to me to resolve the situations of you and your fellow refugees in the best fashion we can devise. For now, I hope you will cooperate fully." It was a very formal beginning, deliberately structured, but Kamick was glad to have things outlined clearly. At least he had some idea as to what this woman wanted. "Your name please?" she continued.

"Kamick Travan," he answered, then quickly added. "Sheriff's Deputy, Outback Region, Lavestral."

This made the woman blink, but there was no other sign she was startled, her control was ironclad. "You are a police officer?" she requested confirmation.

"Well," Kamick paused, and looked down at his saggy, bleached, and waterlogged uniform, ruined by the cleansers the slavers had used to keep him hale. "Assuming I haven't been declared dead, then yeah."

Ji's eyes narrowed on him. "The only human among over two hundred, and a police officer as well," she murmured. "I suppose you have an interesting story?" It was an obvious prompt.

"I caught their ship inbound on Lavestral," Kamick said sheepishly. He was proud of his skills, but considering the situation he couldn't bring himself to say anything positive. "The ash residue in the atmosphere means you can spot drive trails there. I investigated, found them in a raid, but they spotted me and overwhelmed me."

"There was no support?" she raised an eyebrow slightly in question of this.

"Nothing got there in time," Kamick grimaced, then worked it into a shrug, the feelings of dread from that day had faded beneath the darkness. "The outback's a lonely place; not a lot of officers."

"I see," Ji paused and typed in something on her datapad. "I don't suppose you have any knowledge as to what the slavers were after. The...composition...of their acquisitions is unusual."She clearly struggled to express the meaning without being brutally callous.

Kamick, however, nodded. He'd had his own theory for a while, and it was surprisingly affirming for another to have reached a similar conclusion. "They attacked a dojo on Lavestral, which isn't a typical slaver target. They also made it clear they never thought any of us would be speaking to anyone else who could compromise them ever. I think they were gathering the whole load for some special client, though I can't say what that could be."

"An interesting theory," Ji noted, a bit of genuine warmth seeping into her voice. "I will look into the possibility." She looked to the datapad for a moment, and then back to him. "With that much decided, I am left with the troubling question of what to do with everyone here."

It was not a promising pronouncement. The deputy had little desire for this woman he did not know, or anyone else from the Discblade Alliance, deciding his fate. Jia Ji's obvious reluctance with her responsibility made matters no better, it only made him ashamed. Why should this woman pity him so?

"Shouldn't the spaceport authority handle this?" He tried a deflection. "The resistance really isn't in the refugee business is it?"

Ji put a hand to her mouth suddenly, and coughed repeatedly. Kamick knew what that meant, she had just had to force herself to refrain from laughing. What the rut is so funny?

"My apologies," Ji explained. "You are discussing an impossibility, one you have not realized because you do not know where you are, of course. I am sorry for the oversight." Her eyes shifted away from him. He didn't quite get her shame, but it was clear it was there. "There is no spaceport authority Officer Travan. We are on Ablerin."

Ji paused there, looking to see if Kamick would ask for an explanation. He didn't, he understood immediately. Ablerin, an old abandoned asteroid left empty by ORO after they took all the good ore home, blessed or possibly cursed, with a breathable atmosphere. It was an ideal pirate nest and smuggler haven, and was known as both. There was no law here, not even the order of established criminality. The brutal rule of local gangs prevailed, and the masses huddled in the darkness and clung to survival. Rut! Kamick thought. He was in about the last place in the sector one wanted to be lost and penniless, especially if you were a cop. "I don't suppose you could arrange for passage back to Lavestral?" he tried his best winning smile, an admittedly poorly-practiced gesture.

Ji stared back with a brutally unmoved level gaze.

"A loan would do, I can pay you back, eventually," he offered. He could, Kamick knew. It wouldn't be fun, a deputy's pay wasn't great, but it was a short trip. The money wasn't too bad.

"For you, perhaps," Ji admitted skeptically. "For everyone, no. The Discblade Alliance is not a shipping corporation, our resources do not encompass handing out refugee contracts to two hundred beings, especially at the extortionist prices of smugglers and pirates." She scanned the group, and Kamick waited, wondering what she was thinking. "Nevertheless, passage home to your old lives is the best solution where possible. Could your relatives, or perhaps your superiors, arrange for your passage?"

"Holonet calls cost money," Kamick noted. "I'm kind of penniless." It was a semi-ridiculous question, but he wanted to see just how far this woman was willing to go with refusals to provide funds.

"Considerably less credits than passage, however," Ji sighed. "Everything costs eventually. Very well," she paused. "There is no doubt a store of hard currency aboard the vessel and on the slavers themselves. Some of it is clearly the property of those here, having been taken during your abductions. I will petition the Captain to distribute say, fifty-percent of the total evenly among the refugees." She raised a discrete wrist comlink, disguised as little more than a bracelet, to her mouth. "Stenam, come and see me at your earliest convenience, I have something I need you to coordinate." She issued the order in a simple, regular, but nonetheless commanding voice. Kamick thought it was a neat trick, his supervisors had never been so compelling.

"It will not be a large sum," Ji explained. "But it should be sufficient to make arrangements, for you and most of the other refugees. I think the approach is viable and will save time." she raised her head and looked him straight in the eye. "Do you have any objections?"

"Won't the gangs chop us up?" Kamick wondered, somewhat incredulous. He had no weapons, no armor, no local help. Putting a few credits in his pocket would make him a target and little more.

"Ablerin is a rough place," Ji noted. "But many here are engaged in the refugee business. Those gangs will serve to protect you so long as you stick to the few common areas and do not linger too long. That is all I can offer," she added a morose coda. "Our resources are too few to protect so many."

"I guess that'll have to do then," Kamick replied, depressed. Begging a ride home seemed a poor end to all this. Do I really have to go into debt so I can go back to serving an incompetent police force that can't even stop a brazen slave raid on its own soil? It felt deeply wrong, like he was throwing his life down the drain. Such an appeal would obviously be useless on this cool soldier-lady, the deputy recognized, and he couldn't blame her. She clearly sympathized and was trying to do right by them, but two hundred plus destitute aliens was more than this little grouping of resistance fighters could save single-handedly.

"Please take a seat," she requested gently. "As soon as we are ready to take the next step I'll have you informed." She stopped, then added with real warmth. "And I do thank you for the information on the slavers, I intend to reach the truth beneath all this before this is done."

"Right," Kamick smiled, though the memories turned it to a scowl as he put his back to the slight woman and walked away. He'd gone through torture, and had failed miserably to get that information, to beat these Zygerrians, and it amounted to one puzzle piece for another he didn't even know? It wasn't right, but he saw nothing he could do otherwise. Time to slink back home and pretend it had all never happened, like he'd just been sick somewhere for a week.

So he sat and watched as Ji called up a silver-haired near-human woman, and laid out a similar set of options. The process repeated over and over, interrupted only by brief bouts of hysteria or shouting, or total confusion. Nothing did more than ruffle the small commander slightly. Kamick admitted he was impressed as it continued. Jia Ji could be imperious and cold, and was demanding and stern, but she had a real reserve of stoicism and patience to keep her together.

Eventually several of the soldiers walked through the refugees and distributed small packets of low-denomination credit chips making certain each person got theirs and no more. Any attempts at theft or fighting were ended by the imposition of the Herglic, a mountainous deterrent.

It had been many hours since the resistance had freed him from the slaver net, but Kamick was anything but tired. His body had been well rested on the ship, since there was nothing to do but sleep, and though local time was the middle of the night, he was bursting with the energy imparted by freedom. So he went into Ablerin's meager common area, driven by the desire to stretch his legs.

I wish freedom came with a better view, he reflected upon first leaving the docking bay.

Ablerin was a former mining asteroid, honeycombed with stark tunnels carved by impoverished miners and industrial droids. Comfort and aesthetics had no claim in this warren. He'd thought Lavestral's landscape was as bad as it got, but this confining maze of tunnels and debris was worse. Most of the structures beyond the docking bays, warehouses, and loading equipment appeared to have simply been blasted out of the rock with cheap explosives and then sanded down a little. The few residents huddled in these tunnels were shells of people, beaten down by brutality and scrapping for what few crumbs they could gather in from the gangs. The gang-members, by contrast, strode about as little gods, proud, vain, and fully despicable in Kamick's eyes.

He avoided them all the same. The resistance woman had said refugees were safe, but a cop was another story. In a land without law, the worst thing was to be a lawman.

Hungry for real food after days on liquid nutrients, Kamick found a vendor and bought a quick meal. He went for noddles, not trusting anything that hadn't been boiled to be clean. The hot, mildly spiced dish tasted positively divine and he lost himself for a time simply enjoying the ordinary again after the empty abyss of confinement.

The solace did not last long. Being a deputy, it was impossible for him to remain on Ablerin for more than a few days without giving himself away and ending up stabbed, shot, or worse. I need a way to get home, he knew, and went looking for a terminal.

It took the Holonet several minutes to connect. Wild Space was only loosely part of the galaxy, and even the Empire had trouble keeping the bureaucracy present. There were no doubt several subspace transceivers in the chain before the real connection, giving Kamick plenty of time to think before he input any commands.

I'll try the office first, he decided. His parents, though small-time farmers, would spend to the last credit to bring him home, and never give him a chance to pay it back. He couldn't do that to them, not when he'd chosen to become a deputy instead of taking charge of the farm. As much as he'd love to call and let them know he was alright, it would have to wait. The Sheriff's Service might help him, and if not he had a few friends among the deputies who could probably scrape up money for a loan.

Navigating the Holonet the deputy brought up Lavestral's meager planetary datanet. There he searched out the Sheriff's Service directory, and was about to call his boss when an impulse stopped him. Instead he put in another command, pulling up a file always near the top.

A list of names and faces stared back from the console; the faces of dead men all, the honored fallen of the lawmen of Lavestral's outback.

The very first face was his own.

Killed in the line of duty, Kamick read. Blaster fire. The usually terse prose marking the fall of a member of law enforcement. Highlighting the file out of morbid curiosity he discovered he'd been posthumously awarded a citation for excellence. What he could not know was whether the Zygerrians had made some effort to fake his death, perhaps by dumping one of their own in his landspeeder and then burning it to nothing, or the office had simply chosen to cover up his abduction. From a terminal on Lavestral he might be able to find out, but not from here.

So, I'm a dead man walking apparently. It was disconcerting to recognize, and also painful. His parents, his sister, all his friends, they thought he'd been killed by slavers. Some no doubt would blame his own willingness to investigate, to get involved, for the loss. Kamick was enough of a realist to realize there would be more than a few who were happy he was gone.

Those slavers took my life away, even though I'm still breathing, Kamick realized, and burned in anger. Can I ever go back?

Yes, he could, he knew it. It was possible. He could call his parents right now and they would find the money, he'd get back to Lavestral, he'd reclaim his old job. That much would happen, but it would never be the same. Could he rejoin the sheriff's office, him a deputy captured by slavers, freed by armed resistance? Would people ever believe he wasn't partly a plant, a spy, or even an imposter? No, the deputy wasn't a deputy anymore. That part of his life had been shorn away. He might try to rebuild it, but it would always be flawed, ruined by what had happened. Maybe if I'd kept silent, Kamick thought. Yes, if he'd done that he could go home with his head held high. But I told them what they wanted. I failed, I wasn't able to be the cop when it mattered most, and I'll have to tell everyone that. It wasn't in him to lie. Going back would be survival, but it would be a defeat he'd never recover from.

You can go back, but you don't have to, the realization struck Kamick harder than the Herglic's first would have. He was officially dead. There was nothing in front of him, he could go in any direction he wanted, do anything, remake his life his way. There would be pain, he'd have to cut all ties with Lavestral, for years at least, but he could still do something. Something yes, but what?

I could get the slavers, he realized suddenly. Not revenge, he didn't want to make them suffer, he wanted to make them stop, the Zygerrians and whoever had paid them to gather everyone up. There was something behind it, he knew that, was absolutely sure of it, and this one ship had not been the only hand extended.

I failed in that cargo hold, Kamick admitted, and let it burn deep down into his core. They won the first battle, but the war has just begun, and I'm not finished. I'll win in the end. He swore silently. And then, when that's done, then I'll be able to go home.

The deputy killed the Holonet call, he'd no need of it right now. His decision had been made. He whispered an apology to his parents, his sister, and everyone who'd stood by him on Lavestral. "I'm going to have to stay dead for a little while, I'm sorry." Then he turned his thoughts away from the ashes of his home, and towards the next step.

I need to get off this nujit of a rock, and right away. How to do that with nothing more than a handful of credits and the clothes on his back; now there was a quandary.

Kamick searched his head and came up with no good ideas. He decided to sleep on it instead. He found a cantina that offered a cheap cot in the back and collapsed almost instantly when his head hit the fabric.

**Chapter Notes**

1. I am trying to use the term 'resistance' consistently for the Discblade Alliance. They are not a 'rebellion,' and are not affiliated with the Rebel Alliance in any way. There are ideological expressions in this chapter. Ji refuses to send the refugees home not because the Discblade Alliance is penniless, but because humanitarian needs are placed at the bottom of the priority list.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – New Departures**

**Discblade Alliance Camp, Ablerin**

**Laclim Sector**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Processing the refugees had stretched on interminably, especially at the end, dealing with the ones who required translation and had all sorts of strange cultural quirks. Many had no idea they were even on another planet. Two had thought they were in the afterlife. Faced with almost nothing she could do, Ji had eventually arranged for a smuggler captain to take them to a Longrun Shipping refugee outpost. The syndicate would no doubt treat them harshly, and the bulk of the group would spend the rest of their lives laboring away in hellish Outer Rim Oreworks mines, but it was the best chance she could give them. She comforted herself as she steamed off in the refresher and tumbled into her bunk with the thought that all other options had been exhausted. I am not Zeison Sha, I cannot work miracles, only give my best, even when it isn't enough.

Jia Ji was not one to forget such an indignity, however. The slavers had forced her to such routes, and she was more resolved than ever to crack the mystery behind these strange slaves.

So, as soon as her immediate duties were resolved, Ji made the trek to see Captain Juro.

The re-purposed docking bay serving the fifty-odd fighters of this Discblade Alliance cell was spacious, having once accommodated big Action-series freighters and ore haulers. It easily fit the handful of small freighters and pair of starfighters they possessed. Captain Juro, feeling staying aboard his ship was a barrier to communication, had erected a command tent using camouflage netting in the center of it all. He was there, typing at a terminal and accompanied by only by an astromech droid assistant, when Ji found him near midday.

Juro turned when she came in but did not rise. These days he usually chose to save his strength. The war is aging him fast, the squad leader noted sadly. But he has so many duties just as we all must bear. "Captain," she said, and bowed slightly as she entered, hands together at her waist.

"Ji," the duros officer smiled. "Welcome, what can I do for you?"

It did not surprise the woman that Juro knew she had not come idly. She did not like to waste time on idle visits, it was unsuitable with superiors. "I am submitting a report on the unusual composition of the group of slaves we liberated in yesterday's engagement."

"Save the trouble and just tell me," Juro waved away her formality as she had know he would.

"Very well sir," Ji replied. "It was an extremely unusual group. All near-humans, excepting a single human police officer they captured when he attempted to interfere," she amended, being thorough was important. "No Twi'Leks, or other local species common in the slave trade. The composition bears no resemblance to local demographics and must have been deliberately determined prior to raiding."

"Really?" Juro yawned briefly, not convinced. "To what end?" He questioned. "That would be very limiting, and expensive."

"I do not know," Ji admitted glumly. She hated presenting incomplete ideas. "I can only assume someone requires large numbers of near-humans for some purpose. The police officer implied the Zygerrians would sell them to some secret or isolated firm with no contact with the outside galaxy." He had been the only one with useful testimony, and even that had been limited. The slavers had been surprisingly professional. Zygerrians set great store by their species superiority complex, but prejudice could not account for it all. "Given the expense, it would be someone with considerable wealth."

"You make a good case," Juro admitted. "So someone is seizing large numbers of near-humans, are they? Well, something to watch for anyway. I'll pass that along to our contacts."

It was the reasonable response, to tell the Zeison Sha who kept the connections between their group and other cells, and to see what shook out in time, but it was not enough to satisfy Ji. Two hundred and twenty-eight lives were taken specifically for this nefarious purpose. It was a major threat, the key to something larger. She wanted urgent action. "I appreciate that Captain," Ji interjected. "But I believe a direct investigation is necessary."

"Is that so?" Juro turned about, stood up, and focused on her with those great big Duros eyes. She could only stand in place as he looked her up and down, measuring something with the vision of an officer who had seen combat for many years. "Hmm..." he scratched his chin with one hand. "You're really convinced this is important aren't you?"

"Yes sir," Ji held herself straight and firm, giving her utmost to proper military carriage.

"Your insight is usually good," Juro acknowledged. "If you think this is important I'm sure it is. That being said, that doesn't make it important to this unit."

"I am aware of that sir," In fact, Ji had anticipated Juro saying almost exactly that sentence. It was what any good officer would do in his place, and he was certainly such.

"Let be be frank for a moment Jia Ji," She tensed, worried about what came next. "You're the best squad leader I've got, and if I go down my standing order is for you to take the unit."

Ji stifled a gasp. He'd put her second in line? It could not be, she wasn't even close to ready to command the whole cell.

"You want to investigate this personally don't you," Juro went on. "I know you, you're one to take things too far, you've always got to be sure, to triple check, and then check again, to make certain its right." He shook his head. "This is war, and in war, that's not always possible. Look," he offered kindly. "I'll put the word out, make sure someone takes charge of this matter, but I need you here."

She wished she could believe that promise, but Ji knew the Discblade Alliance too well, better in some ways, than a purely military man like Juro ever could. There were always new projects, new needs, new demands on time and resources, every one of them urgent. This, well, someone would do a few data searches, slice a few files, and they'd find a suitable explanation they thought correct and then it would be forgotten. Without seeing it, without watching all those people taken out of the cargo hold, the strange, impossible collection of slaves in one place, without that visceral impact no one would understand it's importance.

Filled with trepidation Ji asked. "Are you ordering me to stay, Captain?"

The older Duros shook his hairless head. "No, I'm not going to force you to disregard an order just to hurt you Ji. This isn't a proper army, I can't make you stay. If you're really that committed, then go, and make sure you do find the truth."

"Thank you sir," she could not manage to keep her voice completely even. It would have been so hard, so very, very hard, to be forced to choose otherwise.

"What do you want?" Juro demanded next, putting her on the spot.

Suspicious, for she expected a fight over this, Ji began carefully. "I'll need the _Nomad Sentry_, I must have a ship."

"I see," Juro scratched his chin again. "Ultimately, that one's your ship, so there's no point crying over it."

This caused Ji to grimace. Yes, the vessel was in her name, but it wasn't her money that had bought it, that was her family's. She was not proud of such things. Despite this, she had expected more of a fight. The Discblade Alliance needed ships more than anything else, she would have thought Juro would try to dissuade her by forbidding her from taking any of theirs. That meant her other request might well be the target. "Beside the _Nomad Sentry_, I want to take Drado with me."

Juro's eyes narrowed. "You're asking for the best soldier I've got. I need that Kyuzo."

"I cannot go alone," Ji refused to budge. "If Drado is the second that's all I need, otherwise I'd want more support."

"Damn it Ji!" The Captain protested. "I know he's part of your squad and works better with you than anyone else so far, but you know the value of that one on a battlefield."

"To the many one man, no matter how great his talents, is merely useful. To the few, a great man is invaluable," Ji had learned many quotes in her life, but this one was particularly useful now, for it was the words of a Duros Jedi general from the Clone Wars. "You can carry on without Drado, there are many other good soldiers. Without him, I believe I have little chance of accomplishing anything."

Slowly Juro sat down, still shaking his head. "I wonder..." he muttered, staring off past Ji. "Well, fine, you've convinced me. I'll detach you, Drado, and the _Nomad Sentry_ for an unspecified period of time. You can hunt down the pattern behind these unusual slaves."

"Thank you sir," Ji felt as if she was glowing. She had never thought it would go so well. "I will make preparations immediately."

"Right," the captain nodded, looking depressed.

Ji turned to go, but as she raised the tent flap she heard Juro add something else, low and somber, barely audible.

"I hope you're wrong Ji, and you come back with nothing but an odd coincidence," he whispered. "But if you're right, if this is a real threat, then you'd better stop it. I hope you're ready."

Jia Ji looked back to see only a strange alien regret in those pitiless orange eyes. She shuddered, but her decision was made, and there was work to be done.

"Drado, check the port side power couplings," Ji called down to the engine compartment from the cockpit of _Nomad Sentry_. "We've got flutter in that engine." The woman sighed as the Kyuzo warrior grunted back in the affirmative. Getting the ship together was taking more work than she thought. It had been damaged by a pretty serious laser barrage in the last space skirmish and the repairs had been considerably more emergency than Ji had been led to believe. Of course, repairs would probably be easier if either she or Drado had more than novice mechanical skills. As it was, the pre-flight checklist was proving to be a true ordeal.

We will get it done, Ji knew, there was nothing insurmountable to handle, but she was already sick of fiddling with parts and converters. Steeling herself she turned back to the command console and looked to the net sequence of system interchanges to test.

"Ma'am, there's someone here to see you," a voice interrupted over her wrist comlink.

The voice was Leviit's, which Ji considered normal, but why was anyone here, she'd already said her goodbyes to the squad and would be leaving the camp within hours. "Who's there?" she demanded.

"It's one of the refugees ma'am," the rodian elaborated.

One of the refugees? Ji didn't get it. Several had stopped by to see her in the past forty-eight hours, mostly to express utterly embarrassing amounts of gratitude, but she'd told the other fighters to have any more turned away from the camp. They were becoming a security risk. "Why did you let this one in Leviit?"

"He was very insistent ma'am, wanted you personally and not anyone else," the rodian seemed uncomfortable.

"This had better be worth the effort," Ji grumbled, knowing it would mortify the rodian trooper. Ultimately, she rather welcomed the distraction. Standing easily she took the few steps necessary to get to the exit of her little ship.

What she saw at the edge of the boarding ramp was not what she expected. It was not some teary-eyed near-human, but the police officer who she'd spoken to before all the others. It took a moment for Ji to recognize him, for his appearance had changed dramatically. His short brown hair had been shampooed and combed, straightened up in a pseudo-military cut. The ragged remnants of his homeworld's uniform had been replaced by a gray jumpsuit and a combat vest. Previously unarmed he'd somehow acquired a blaster pistol and a buck knife. He did not look like a cop, not exactly, but he certainly looked like he belonged in tough company. "You are the deputy," Ji spoke to cover her surprise. "Officer T-" she slipped, failed to recall the name, and cursed the lapse.

"Travan," he answered, his voice had a dusty accent, and rough tones, but as before he was direct and easy to understand. "Kamick Travan, my friends call me Kam."

"I am uncertain that we are friends, Officer Travan," Ji noted archly, confused as to why this man was here, and how he had acquired the gear. She had given him nowhere near the funds for such purchases. "Or why you have come to see me, and apparently applied rather forceful persuasion to one of my men." Technically Ji wasn't in command of anyone but Drado right now, but she wasn't about to let her troops be pushed around so.

"I had to say some drastic things to get in here," Kamick admitted, and looked at least moderately contrite. "But I needed to speak with you."

"Considering the apparent change in your fortunes," Ji's remark was laced with a special kind of noble sarcasm not precisely common on the edge of space. "I find my doubts considerable that you need to speak with me."

Kamick looked down at his change of clothes, and weapons. "Oh this?" He chuckled. "Well, did you know that if you add just a pinch of volcanic ash to some ales it looks almost exactly like Corellian Whiskey?"

"You got someone drunk, pretended to be so yourself, and then robbed him blind," Ji noted darkly. "Thievery is not a good way to impress me." Yes, she was engaged in wholesale armed resistance to the most powerful government in the galaxy, but she was not a criminal.

"He was a spice dealer, pimp, and rapist," Kamick spoke flatly. "Since there's no law here, well, no one should mind if I enforce a little bit of it."

"Did you kill him?" Ji needed to know. She could appreciate smacking around the strongarms who ruled this worthless excuse for an asteroid, but there were still lines.

"No, I just left him sprawled in the street on his swoop, naked and with a few broken bones," Kamick explained. "It should look like an accident."

"Hmm..." Ji upped her estimate of this man a little. He was not just a cop who happened to blunder into a slave raid. He'd absorbed the core of some hard training and learned flexibility as well. Still, rather headstrong, and she'd bet whichever gang this pimp belonged to was already on his trail. "I see. Well, consider that you have my attention. What did you so desperately need to speak to me about?"

"You're going after the slavers aren't you?" he probed.

"Why do you think that?" it was a ridiculous retort standing on-board a ship in the process of powering up, but she wanted to hear what kind of answer she would get. He couldn't have known she was working on it prior to coming inside the camp.

"You told me you were going to reach the truth," he replied in a deeply serious voice, and his eyes seemed to take on a terrible focus. "I believe you one to keep your promises."

So I am, the squad leader agreed. One's word, given in good faith, was a thing of great value, and not to be sacrificed save for the greatest of needs, she had learned that line as a child. How could he tell? Ji was puzzled. This officer had spoken to her for only minutes, and surely his mind had been on other matters. She worked constantly to maintain tight control of herself, how had he read her so easily? "Accepting that as truth, what does my pursuit of the Zygerrians have to do with you?"

"Simple," Kamick's face split wide open in a great big grin. "I'm joining up with the mission."

"Excuse me?" Ji was completely flummoxed.

"I want to find the truth the same as you," the deputy elaborated. "So I'm coming along on this mission."

"You have no idea where I'm going, who is with me, how long it will take or how dangerous it will be," Ji struggled for balance. "How can you even conceive of this?"

"It's simple," he shrugged, not at all put out. "Officially I'm dead, so there's nothing to tie me down, and I'm committed to this cause. I've got to finish it."

There was nothing to reveal it overtly, but Ji caught a hint of desperation in this words. This is a man without a home, his whole life stolen from him. He has only this to drive him on. It worried her. Such men are dangerous. She had seen Imperial atrocities and met survivors. The man with nothing to lose was an armed grenade.

"Why should I allow this?" She wasn't sure why she would even contemplate it, but there was something in his demeanor that suggested acceptance. "What assets do you offer me? Surely not combat skills," she jumped out ahead of that conversation. Some policemen thought they were invincible heroes because they'd taken down a few local toughs and quailed in the face of actual combat.

"You're going after slavers, after a criminal organization," Kamick's speech had the tenor of one rehearsed, but it did not stop the resistance fighter from paying attention. "You're a officer, a soldier, and so is everyone else here, or maybe they're pilots, or engineers. That's great against the Empire, a military enemy, but not so good against criminals. You need an investigator. That's what I offer."

"I recall you claiming to be a sheriff's deputy, not a detective," Ji mused skeptically.

"That's right," Kamick didn't back down. "I was the sole law enforcement officer in an territory with more surface area than this whole rutting asteroid. I had to be ready for any kind of trouble. I'm no polished city detective, but I can find out what's going on out there. Besides, you getting a better offer?"

She had to concede the last at least. He does have a point, Ji admitted privately. Criminal investigation had not been any part of her schooling, and Drado, for all his skills, was a warrior first, last, and only. "I will admit that your skill set could be useful, and I could use an extra hand in any case, the Discblade Alliance can always use assistance, but I am not sure I should trust you. Perhaps you are a plant, a slaver who hid amongst his cargo to escape death in battle?" She didn't really believe that, but she wanted to see if she could set him off.

It worked, partly, Kamick's whole body tightened up as she watched. "You want proof of who I say I am, here!" he thrust out his right hand, palm up. "You know why slavers normally kill cops, not take them?" She did not, but he was already answering. "The Empire's got a genetic record for each of us in our files. Take a sample and run it, that'll prove I'm who I say I am."

"It will not be necessary to violate your privacy in such a way," Ji said quietly. "I believe you, that is not a claim to be made in a bluff, and you have the open face of an honest man. You have not lied to me."

"Then why-" the deputy was clearly puzzled.

"I asked for proof and you offered it, despite the humiliation," the squad leader answered calmly, as a teacher might. "That was the rational response, and not the answer a man obsessed with revenge would have given." She drew in a breath, weighed matters for a moment, and made her choice. "You may join this mission Kamick Travan, if you agree to swear to never betray the Discblade Alliance and to follow my orders in battle."

"Fine."

She had not expected a refusal to such modest conditions. "They is one other thing," and Ji smiled cruelly. "The other member of the crew needs to agree as well."

"Other crew mem-" A shadow appeared over Kamick, and suddenly Drado had landed in front of him, unfolding into two full meters of corded alien nastiness. "Son of a cinder!" the deputy swore.

"Cho," Drado muttered in his own language. "Vudao." The kyuzo warrior the strange alien tongue was deeply foreign, as always soundly muffled by the breathing apparatus he had to wear.

At Kamick's blank look, unsurprising considering how few members of the species were in this part of the galaxy, Ji smiled. "He's says you're naive." She noted, a sentiment she was inclined to agree with.

"Is that a refusal?" the man tightened up, looking ready to fight.

Lightning quick Drado jabbed him in the gut, just beneath the edge of the protective vest, with a three fingered hand.

Kamick coughed and hacked, but lunged forward, throwing himself at the Kyuzo.

Drado dodged back, and Kamick's hands slipped off armored robes, but it was a very close thing.

"Enough!" Ji demanded. "Point made, I should think."

Drado nodded. "Xo."

"It seems you pass," Ji smiled, Drado's directness was always refreshing, and often revealed much.

Kamick shook his head, managing a weak smile. "I don't know you, but you can sure hit," he muttered to Drado. He leaned heavily against a landing strut and gasped for breath.

"Don't feel bad," Ji added. "Drado is extremely capable, I've never met anyone better who wasn't Zeison Sha."

"Right," the deputy managed to straighten up. "So, moving on, I'm all aboard for this, what's next?"

"Go stow your things in one of the unused cots," Ji instructed, noting that wouldn't be much. "Then grab some tools, we've got to fix the rest of the ship up."

"Copy that," Kamick acknowledged, and headed up the boarding ramp.

Ji reached out in his direction and started to warn him, but he had a long, fast stride.

Reaching the top Kamick promptly hit his head on the doorframe.

"Rut!" he barked. "What's this?" he glanced inside. "Wait a minute, I'm not that tall."

"You are not short either," Ji noted, for he was most of a head above her, though she was admittedly a small woman. "But the _Nomad Sentry_ is. I'm afraid that's how Phoenix-Hawks were made. There is little comfort to be found aboard, but she'll get us from place to place."

"I'm not worried about comfort," the policemen scowled. "Grew up camping on ash flows, but I'm going to get such a crick in my neck..."

Ji shrugged. Personally, she had no problems aboard. Sometimes it was good to be short.

As they finished the repairs over the next few hours, Ji kept her mind focused on immediate matters, but eventually Kamick's patience failed and he asked a question he'd been carrying for a while. "You were already getting the ship ready, so you must have plans. Where are we going?"

Still getting used to the 'we' component, Ji was initially hesitant to reply. No, she determined. The choice is made. This man is with us now, for better or worse, and he must become a comrade. For that there must be trust extended. "Smuggler's Run."

Kamick drew in a breath. "Really, that's...not supposed to be very nice."

"It isn't," Ji confirmed her inkling that though the deputy was only a few years her junior at most he had little experience off his homeworld. "But it is the crossroads of the Kalat Arm, and the center of much traffic in slaves. Our targets, the Coldiron Conglomerate, have been sighted there often enough, and it is the best place to start gathering intelligence."

"It's also one of those legendary shadowports you're never supposed to visit if you wear a badge," Kamick replied sourly.

"You no longer wear a badge," Ji admonished. "That man is dead, you are a soldier for the Discblade Alliance now, and we are not without friends on Smuggler's Run."

"Oh," She could tell from the shocked look on his face he hadn't really considered this. Well, she thought. It doesn't matter for now. If he still thinks of himself as a cop that is normal, he will come to the rest in time.

"You will see," she muttered with cryptic amusement. "Now fasten down those bolts so we can get out of here. I want to launch in ten minutes."

"Right," Kamick moved with alacrity to complete the task.

Perhaps three will not be so bad, Ji considered, but her mind was still far from made up. Smuggler's Run, she suspected, would provide necessary answers in more ways than one.

**Chapter Notes**

_Nomad Sentry_ is a Phoenix-Hawk class light pinnace, a patrol ship that was deliberately built small and spartan as a way to cut corners. It is a canonical vessel. By this date they were very rare in the galaxy at large, but in a remote region such as the Kalat Arm, remained common.

Ji's dealings with Drado are intended to show that while the Discblade Alliance has a military structure and organization, unlike the Rebel Alliance there is no concrete fleet delineation. Everything is much more informal.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Early Turns**

**Skip 1, Smuggler's Run**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

How is it possible for an asteroid to smell? Kamick wondered as the three of them walked the halls of Skip 1, Smuggler's Run's largest, most populous, and assuredly most filthy settled asteroid. The place had a foul odor to it running underneath all the different scents of beings, food, machinery, and more. It was like the asteroid had decided to punish the scum of the galaxy by offsetting its ideal size, composition, and location with a disgusting aftertaste. I sincerely hope our investigation carries us somewhere else quickly enough, he wished.

The deputy turned resistance ally found the Run to be an eye-opening experience. He'd never seen so many different species, or blaster models, in one place at once. The diversity was immense, and a little bit frightening. Everything from humanoids, to insectoids, to some kind of oozing tar pit being made their way through the streets, going about endlessly different endeavors. As far as Kamick could tell there was only one piece of commonality here. Everyone was armed, surly, and in a hurry to get out of the way of Drado.

In the cramped confines of _Nomad Sentry_ the young man had found the Kyuzo warrior more than a little intimidating. Here, he discovered that he was not alone, and it was quite the blessing. Even the testy Velabri, known throughout the region as warriors with a hair-trigger for slights, and a hulking Wookie spacer seemed to understand Drado was not to be crossed unless you really meant it. The citizens of Smuggler's Run had a clearly refined sense for those who actually were dangerous compared to ones who simply presented the illusion of it.

Jia Ji led them down from fortified docking bays, where the defenses were concentrated on the inside, to a series of large markets carved into major asteroid caverns. Countless stalls, booths, and alcoves were filled with various businesses, all buying or selling to the smugglers, pirates, and other representatives of the galactic fringe who gathered here. "I put the over/under on stabbings per hour at about six or seven," Kamick whispered over his shoulder to Ji as they passed a vendor selling candies laced with spice.

"I suspect you could find a bookie to offer you odds on that," she answered in complete seriousness. "But we have other business to attend to."

"Right," he agreed. Ji had provided some extra background on slavery in the region in general and the Coldiron Conglomerate in particular while in hyperspace, but they had relatively little to begin their search. "Where do we start?"

"We need to find out about the flow of slaves, and find a way to get in touch with someone as high in the game as we can," she outlined. "That way we can try to touch on the market for exotic near-humans. Rumors and tips will only be marginally helpful, our best way is to find someone who knows the business and then either bargain or seize the information."

It wasn't a terrible approach exactly, but it was a military one; locate the target, find an opening, and then strike. It might work, under the right circumstances, but it might also backfire.

"We don't want the slavers," Kamick objected, and when Ji's expression turned puzzled explained further. "Why should the slavers talk to someone poking into their business? Criminals are paranoid, and usually for good reason. Someone comes asking around about what slaves go where and they'll assume we're making a play for their business, and even if they hate the Coldirons they'll clam up, maybe even come after us."

"Reasonable," she admitted, though he doubted he'd convinced her. "But how are we to get the information we need otherwise?"

"We go to the competitors, people whose business is in opposition to the slave trade, and therefore do their own espionage all the time," Kamick grinned. "Those people are far less likely to care what we want, so long as we promise it won't be good for the slavers. Most criminal enterprises are a fixed market, not like regular business. You don't grow through innovation, development, or service, you grow by taking over the other people who've got a piece of your market."

"So we must approach the rivals of the slavers," Ji accepted. "It has a practical appeal, but who would that be?" She looked thoughtful, her eyes drifting slightly downward, away from those immediately in front of her.

Kamick shrugged, it didn't seem obvious to him, the whole point of slavery was work you didn't pay for, how do you compete with that?

"Droid shops are an obvious start then," Ji concluded. "Leisure equipment as well, and perhaps catering, if such a thing is to be found on Smuggler's Run."

Catching the direction of the squad leader's thinking Kamic added his own idea. "We might try gaming parlors and bars as well, the working class kind. Slaves don't get money for vices, while free workers do."

"A reasonable proposition," Ji noted and stopped walking suddenly. Kamick pulled up beside her, while Drado was instantly still without prompting. "In that case we shall split here."

"Split?" the deputy wondered aloud.

"To pursue differing avenues of investigation," the tactician in her was speaking now. "We each have a different skill set and social setting to use to our advantage. Drado has friends and contacts among the mercenary community, which is liable to know something about major organizations here. I need to check in with certain friends and then I shall try the droid dealers. Buying a few droids is well within the financial picture I am comfortable running."

Kamick looked at Ji oddly when she said this. She had been such a penny-pincher when dealing with freed slaves and yet now spoke as if she was used to money. Then again, he thought. She owns that ship, and her clothes are far nicer than most, if in an old and understated style. It occurred to him he knew almost nothing about her background. A situation to remedy soon, he decided.

"You should try the bars and gaming venues, they fit your attire," Ji concluded.

"What should I use as my cover? By myself people will guess I'm a cop," Even out of uniform, there were plenty of people who could spot the training of law enforcement.

Drado offered something in the incomprehensible language he usually spoke. Ji translated with a slight smile. "Drado says it's impossible to hide your security training, so you should claim to be a bodyguard for hire, or a work site overseer."

"Thanks," Kamick told the Kyuzo, and it was fairly offered. It was a good idea.

"Local time is actually mid-morning," Ji briefed them. They had used Ablerin's chrono settings on the short trip over, and it felt like evening to them. "But this place runs at all hours. Meet up in four hours at Gron's Salted Punch, it will serve as a decent rendezvous point."

Meeting up in a sleazy bar on a smuggler-infested asteroid, Kamick shook his head. I really have joined the resistance.

Kamick pushed a stack of small chips over to his opponents. "Bad run of luck for me, I'm out," he decided, folding his sabaac cards under. The game wasn't going anywhere, either in betting or learning something useful. Three hours into this and all I've managed to do is lose a hundred credits at cards, he grumbled silently. Some investigator I am. He lazily meandered over to the bar of this modest little gaming hole, mostly full of ore hauler crewmen and local maintenance workers. The deputy figured he'd buy a drink and see if that led anywhere.

Three men approached the bar at the same time he did, recent arrivals. They had the stained hands and dirty coveralls of technicians. Probably starship repair, Kamick figured, glancing at their tool belts. It was a big business here on the Run. He'd heard advertisements for all kinds of mod-shops and chop-shops. The best illegal upgrades this side of Kessel some claimed.

"Steak and chips," the leader of the trio requested of the bartender, in what was clearly an established ritual. "And three glasses."

The bartender, a zabrak with half his horns smashed flat from too many fights, named a price.

"Syevin! You're rutting joking right?" the mechanic retorted, surprised and angry.

"Sorry boys," the zabrak shook his head. "Bantha meat's gone up again, another thirty percent, and we all have to do business."

"This is the weekly sabaac night Syevin," one of the others pleaded jovially. "Cut us a break man."

The bartender leaned over close, and whispered to them. Kamick perked his head in that direction, struggling to hear.

"Look boys, you're regulars, so I'll try to be fair," the bartender whispered. "Can't do nothing about the steaks, the boss is insistent, but how 'bout I forget you ever ordered that second round of ales, huh?"

"You're the man, Syevin!" the techs congratulated the barkeep with a flurry of shoulder slaps and other expressions of manly affection. Nice to see the locals look out for each other, the deputy thought. Then he shook himself slightly. This is important, he thought. He couldn't say why, but there was something he was missing from this encounter. What was it?

The price of bantha meat went up thirty percent? Kamick might be from an ash-covered desert, but it was fertile ash, and he'd never dealt with the food shortages plaguing many marginal colonies. This place has to import things like bantha meat, probably from everywhere, is there some shipping problem?

"Say boys," Kamick approached the three mechanics. "I'm new around here, is there some kind of food shortage? 'Cause I might have to go elsewhere to look for work then, a man can't fight on an empty stomach."

"No food shortage," one of them answered, downing a good three hundred mills of ale in about two seconds. "There's a recycling system here, turns out more than enough cheap ration bars to feed everyone."

"If you can eat that nujit broth," another elbowed the first in the side. "Which ya can't, not forever."

This confused Kamick. "Isn't the purpose of ration bars to sustain a person, well, forever?" He'd been issued plenty of similar food for long patrols. Tasteless pasty garbage the lot of it, but it kept you ready to go.

"Most places that'd be true," the first speaker acknowledged, talking his craft with the experience of a man well practiced. " Not here though. You eat bars constantly you'll get sicker than a confined Casero."

The deputy's blank look apparently spoke for itself, and one of the other picked up the tale. "It's the ooze, you see. You've seen it right?" Of course he had, it was found in every neglected crack and crevice of the asteroid, disgusting greenish slime, foul smelling and awful. "That stuff gets into everything if you don't clean it off periodically, and when it gets into your food, well, then you get sick."

"Wouldn't the recycling plant run proper maintenance?" Contamination by viscous goo didn't seem that hard to prevent to Kamick's mind.

"The plant's run by Naos III Mercantile, and they're cheapskate nujits worse than everything you've ever seen," one replied. The third added. "And since Longrun controls the shipping and makes a profit on imported food and medicine they don't complain. They make more money off the misery."

"Anyway," the first concluded. "It's not likely to be a problem unless you eat ration bars constantly, so we all try to vary our diet, but lately the prices on all the imported food's going up."

"But why would the price go up?" Kamick questioned. "Wouldn't some shipper pick up the slack if there's profit to be made?"

"Not much money in hauling food son," the eldest of the mechanics explained. "Unless its a luxury for core world restaurants. Most of our imports are brought back by empty refugee liners on their return trip from down the Toxil Route, and that's when the colonies have plenty to spare, which is less than everyone would like. Supply's actually pretty constant, so someone must be eating more of the imports."

"Immigration?" It was the deputy's next idea.

"Nah," the youngest tech waved that off. "Each asteroid's got a limited amount of space, and they're all pretty full. Expansion means settling a new Skip. Hasn't happened for a while, the big declaration of rebellion's got the Empire cracking down everywhere, so the smugglers are having some bad times lately."

The actions of the so-called Rebel Alliance were far away from this part of the galaxy, and Kamick knew next to nothing about them, but he supposed Smuggler's Run had a larger clientele. "Well, if there aren't more mouths, why should there be less food?"

"Don't know," the trio shrugged. "Maybe someone's playing some stupid speculation game. Wouldn't put it past Longrun to create a fake shortage just to test the market."

Or, Kamick considered. Maybe there really are more mouths to feed. The Zygerrians had cared about the health of their 'product,' they wouldn't feed slaves contaminated rations in any quantity, so it wouldn't take that many slaves to create a demand on the market. "Well, I've got to go," He stood up from the bar. "Thanks for the advice about the ration bars. Next round's on me." He dropped a few credit chips on the bar and was raucously back-slapped on the way out.

Gron was Kerkoiden, and twice as surly as most of his pompous kind. He seemed the odd type to run a bar, but Kamick discovered it was purely a business venture. Once upon a time Gron had been an explorer, and though he hadn't found massive mineral riches, he'd apparently discovered some minor tribe that made one mind-blowing punch brew. He'd brought the sample back to Smuggler's Run, secretly duplicated and synthesized the recipe, and gone into business.

On a whim Kamick tried some. "Stang," he murmured after the first gulp. "I hate sweet liquor, but this stuff is rutting good."

Drado, sitting next to him in their dark booth, raised his own mug in salute.

Jia Ji grimaced, and Kamick couldn't help but grin. The small woman was nursing a glass of reddish swill pretending to be wine. Given her mass, he wasn't in the slightest surprised that she avoided the hard stuff. "Next time, I pick the bar," she admonished, staring at Drado in mock accusation.

The Kyuzo warrior only laughed, a deep and rather frightening expression.

Picking at her food, some vague granule-based mess, Ji queried the rest of them. "What have you discovered?"

Drado spat out a few phrases in his own language.

"So, the Coldiron Conglomerate is here," Ji summarized for Kamick's benefit. "But they've been keeping to themselves and only a few have been seen buying up supplies." This was hardly surprising to anyone, Zygerrians weren't exactly friends with many species, and slavery had a bad reputation in this part of space. "I imagine they're using intermediaries then. Well, at least we're in the right place." Ji paused, then switched tracks. "I'm afraid neither my...allied...contacts," she was careful to avoid mentioning the Discblade Alliance openly. Kamick realized in a moment that it was not out of fear of the Empire, who'd never dare venture here with less than a Star Destroyer, than of tipping off anyone on the slaver's tab. "Nor the local droid dealers had tremendously much useful to say. Droids mostly compete with slaves in the heavy and domestic labor markets, and both are going fine. However, I did get my hands on a lot list from a recent slave market auction. I'm going to compare it to the list of those we liberated and see if any useful patterns emerge." She turned to Kamick. "Did you learn anything of importance?"

"Only one thing, maybe," he hated to say so little, but it was the truth. "The price of imported food locally has been going up a lot." This revelation caused Ji to turn to the bar's posted menu and scowl in recognition. "If I've figured the local dynamics right, a bunch of slaves being secretly fed a high-quality diet could account for it."

"Interesting," Ji noted. "I had not thought of that approach. The Zygerrians certainly do their best to hide information on their slave purchases, but they might be less cautious regarding foodstuffs. I have only the barest basics when it comes to slicing," Kamick had no idea if Ji was proud or disappointed by such a measure of her abilities, her face was the perfect mask. "But legal manipulation of databases is well within my meager talents. I will look into this. With luck we might even identify their proxy buyer."

"And what should we do in the meantime?" Kamick wondered. He didn't want to spend too much time idling in bars. His gambling skills, developed on a small colony, were no match even for Smuggler's Run's worst. The money Ji had supplied for the operation wouldn't last.

Drado interjected with a long, rambling comment.

"Really?" Ji looked at green-skinned alien slightly puzzled.

"Slave auction rules," Drado said suddenly, speaking in Huttese, a language Kamick could understand, more or less, for the first time in his presence. "All merchandise bought and sold in person. Prevents fraud."

"Ah," Ji and Kamick both acknowledged at once. The small woman looked at him funny in that moment, seemingly waiting to see if he would speak.

The deputy chose to stay silent. Ji was in charge, and he thought she was good at it.

"So," the squad leader continued. "Even if the auctions are held at sealed or secret locations, as they no doubt are, the slaves have to be transported back through the tunnels to the ships. The Zygerrians are holed up in their docking bays, so it may be possible to catch them coming or going. It is worth pursuing. Well, then you two will scout out that option."

"Right," Kamick looked at Drado. He speaks Huttese, okay, that's one less problem, but I wonder about working with this warrior. Is he going to cut my head off at the first mistake? He thought about it, then pushed his fear down. I'm going to have to find out sooner or later, might as well be now. "We'll get on it."

The Kyuzo simply grunted.

**Chapter Notes**

Casero's are a species with compulsive wanderlust, confinement drives them mad, thus the reference.

Naos III Mercantile is a canonical corporation, mentioned during _Labyrinth of Evil_. Naos is in close proximity to Smuggler's Run.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Tunnel Rats**

**Skip 1, Smuggler's Run**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

"You were right about the food diversions," Ji began moments after arriving at the edge of the access tunnel Kamick and Drado had chosen. "The Zygerrians have been buying heavily. The Toydarian merchant they have handling the discrete purchases knows it's way more than the slavers themselves could possibly eat. He's been wondering what they were doing with it."

"You talked to him?" the deputy blurted. That was a major risk.

"Not in person," Ji smiled softly. "I made a video call. It was easy enough to claim I had noticed he was a major player in the local market and I struck up negotiations on a phantom deal for supplies. It was simplicity itself to tease that out during discussion, he was practically bragging about all the business."

Kamick blinked. Right, she can do that kind of thing, pretend to be some big shot and carry it off. I couldn't have pulled the con, he knew. Really, she's not just a soldier, who is she? He resolved to ask once they were in a less dangerous situation.

"What about the auction patterns?" He asked, it was the other major piece, and the more important one right now.

"Well, the Zygerrians aren't selling their near-human captives at auction," Ji offered, and nodded in his direction. "Which supports what you heard when they questioned you." Questioned, right, the deputy's whole body burned at the horrible memories, still fresh and raw. "There were other near-humans on the market, and I'm not able to say what is a normal proportion, but it did appear there were very few Desga being auctioned off."

Drado offered a quick opinion.

"Indeed, certain Desga species, especially females, are exotics," Ji's voice grew cold, her disdain for the subject bleeding through her tightly controlled voice. Kamick sympathized, researching the economics of slaves sales just felt dirty. "Big time buyers, ones who already have enough Twi'leks and Zeltrons, tend to snap them up. The Zygerrians are big players in the slave markets in the Kalat Arm, many other criminals will not traffic in slaves due to Zeison Sha blades."

Kamick and Drado both chuckled at this. Law was weak in Wild Space, but the Zeison Sha tolerated crime only to a point, and slavery was well over the line. Slavers had a bad tendency to eventually meet one and wind up dead. It kept the smart criminals out of the business. Zygerrians, Kamick supposed. Just can't help themselves.

"I wish I had a list of purchases, but such information is either non-existent or highly secure," Ji smiled wickedly, an expression new to the deputy. "Or possibly both. In any case, we cannot get to it, but thanks to your efforts," she nodded to them both. "We may not need to."

"This old tunnel is pretty much abandoned," Kamick gestured, explaining what they had managed to find. "But it crosses one of the major internal transit corridors to the inner parts of the asteroid. Someone blocked off one side with rubble, but the other's open."

"And you believe this transit corridor is the one the Zygerrians will use to transport the slaves?" Ji concluded.

Drado muttered something.

"And whose idea was it to look for those?" Ji querried carefully.

When the Kyuzo pointed a long green-skinned finger at him, the deputy couldn't help but swell with pride. It had been his inspiration to scan the omnipresent ooze for the characteristic red hairs. After that a medpack's analyzer had easily confirmed the Zygerrian origin. Of course, it had been the sharp eyed Kyuzo who'd actually located the hairs. He's just that good, Kamick had to admit, but he had discovered the alien wasn't arrogant about it. Whatever his reasons for devoting himself to combat, it's not about being the best, the deputy had been glad to discover.

"And there is a slave auction tonight?" Ji confirmed the message they'd sent calling her over.

Kamick nodded. It had been another joint discovery. He'd asked the Weequay enforcer questions while Drado held him half a meter off the ground and did knife tricks with the other hand. It had induced considerable pliability. Not exactly according to the rules, he had to admit, but effective. "It seems they hold them almost every night, though size varies. Our timing should be good, this is supposed to be a big one."

"Then check weapons and armor and let's get into position," Ji determined rapidly. "The notice is shorter than I would prefer, but we may not have many chances at this before our questioning arouses the attention of our target." she reached into a small bag she was carrying and pulled out several pairs of oddly shaped gear. "Night vision goggles," she explained. "We'll need them in the tunnel." She handed one to each.

Kamick was briefly struck dumb. Idiot, he thought, how could I miss that? When exploring with Drado they had simply used glow rods, but neither had thought through to acquire gear so the Zygerrians wouldn't detect them. That's why she's in charge, he reminded himself. She doesn't make those kind of dumb mistakes.

Kamick took the goggles and hung them loose around his neck. Such devices had limited power reserves, he'd save them until the time came. Quickly he checked over his blaster pistol. The scum he'd taken it from had at least been smart with his weapon. Everything was ready. "Let's do this."

They descended into the tunnel.

The inside was warm, and stale with air not regularly recycled. Worse, the ooze was everywhere, and unavoidable. Their clothes were soon stained terribly. "You said something about this being a toxic substance?" Ji muttered grimly after the first hundred meters or so.

"I think that's only if you eat it," Kamick tried to be positive, but he wasn't sure, and it was suddenly terrifying.

"Medical scans for everyone post-op," Ji declared in considerable seriousness. "Tomorrow. After I've spent about three hours in the refresher," she amended more jovially.

Drado barked something.

"No, ladies first," the squad leader retorted, and Kamick couldn't help but laughing. He was glad of the banter, it helped take his mind off the hideous slimy feeling permeating every pore. Getting covered in grit was one thing, on Lavestral that was normal, but this semi-liquid stuff was a completely different beast. It was awful.

The ooze, and the tunnel's many twists and turns, made the going slow. There were a number of side passages to avoid, for Skip One was truly riddled. The deputy got the impression that those working in the asteroid's innards didn't bother to keep maps, they just plowed new passageways in whatever direction it seemed necessary at the time.

So they arrived at the interchange late, and discovered the Zygerrians had already passed by. The footprints in the ooze were fresh. Large, heavy boots from the feet of the arrogant striding aliens.

"At least we're in the right place," Kamick noted. "And they'll be back."

"So they will," Ji acknowledged, only slightly disappointed. "We will wait and catch them then. The return trip is more important anyway, since we would learn little if they were unaccompanied."

Drado barked a warning from a few meters to the left, on the edge of the tunnel.

Kamick rushed over, and raised his glow rod over a point the Kyuzo had identified.

There was an indentation there, a straight line. Looking closely the deputy could tell it was a triangular impression. "Definitely an impression from a foot, but not from any humaniod," he'd seen plenty of footprints in Lavestral's ash. "Not likely anything natural actually."

"A droid then," Ji guessed. "Can you tell make or model?"

"Not anything I'm familiar with," Kamick replied. "We didn't have a lot of droids back home," Volcanic dust made maintenance a huge pain. "But it's designed to be real surefooted, maybe a labor or maintenance unit of some kind."

"Hmm..." Ji raised her hand up to her chin in thought. "I dislike elements unaccounted for, but we are already here. This is a major corridor, droids ought to cross regularly, or the Zygerrians could have brought something with them. We will stay." Kamick took the remark in stride. He wouldn't have even considered leaving on account of a footprint. Ji was being too cautious, he thought. She's not a coward, he knew she would fight, but she can be kind of timid. "Be extra alert," the squad leader added. "Droid senses are different than our own, we could be easily detected."

Kamick felt he had to concede that point, though. He moved back to well down the tunnel, taking up position on the left side. Ji crouched behind him, with Drado on the opposite side of the tunnel.

They settled down to wait.

The deputy bore the slow ticks of the clock easily, the wastelands of his homeworld had inured him to a lack of stimulus. Aside from the clinging embrace of the ooze it was almost restful. Likewise Drado seemed locked in a meditative state, composed on the brink of action but wasting no energy. Ji, however, was nervous. She hid it well, but she relentlessly checked rifle, comlink, and other equipment many times, as if she was sure she'd missed something essential.

"By the way," Kamick whispered after a while. "How are we collecting evidence here?" He recognized he'd not brought anything more than his eyes to observe their quarry.

"I have attached a portable holocam to my rifle's scope," Ji was not so unprepared, as he'd expected. "Now quiet, it may be soon."

It actually wasn't, but it did happen.

Though they were traveling through hidden tunnels, the Zygerrians were making no real attempt at stealth. There was considerable banter among the slavers as they walked, and the constant groaning of newly acquired slaves. The later was accompanied by commands for silence and the occasional cry of pain. "Keep moving you laggards!" Was a regular call.

There were guards. A pair of Zygerrians with blaster rifles marched ahead of the column. When they hit the intersection they made at least the appearance of scanning both sides for anyone who might be watching. Kamick worried they might be seen, despite doing their best to hide any giveaways, but the Zygerrians gave no reaction. The ooze helps us, the deputy recognized. It was at least mostly organic, and room temperature. It hid life and movement fairly well by flooding sensors.

The guards moved on, and the slave column began to proceed past.

The red-haired slavers walked on the outside, and they were in force. Kamick kept a rough count, not easy in the grainy vision of the goggles and with so much movement among the party. He figured at least twenty, maybe twenty-five.

Slaves outnumbered their new masters close to three to one. They were a grim sight indeed. The deputy realized the Zygerrians had been real professionals, keeping their merchandise in top level shape. Some of the other players in the business clearly had less care. Several slaves sported untreated wounds, signs of disease, or general malnutrition. Every one bore a confining slave collar for restraint, and they'd been tied together with syntherope as well.

Kamick's hand itched on the trigger of his blaster as slave after slave was marched by, some barely mustering the strength to put one foot in front of the other. He wanted nothing more than to start blasting slavers in the head for this travesty. It was abominable to treat anyone in this way, and the Zygerrians had the gall to celebrate.

He felt Ji's hand rest on his shoulder. "No," she whispered, barely audible. Then added, "It will come." Her voice held dark resolution.

Slowly, far too slowly, not fast enough to let him blot out the horror of it, the whole train passed.

"Desga," Ji whispered, and Kamick could not quite comprehend. "They are all Desga."

It was true, the woman's inference on the patterns had been correct. But what does it mean? We've confirmed the pattern, the deputy recognized. The Zygerrians are selling near-humans to someone, someone who pays enough to have them buy secondhand and still turn a profit, but who is the buyer? And why do they want such people?

He could not come with any idea.

The last Zygerrian in line walked strangely, staring not at the walls, or the slaves, or his allies, but constantly scanning his wrist.

When he passed the intersection his head suddenly turned in the direction of the three watchers.

"Stang," Ji hissed. "Surveillance detector!"

In a liquid smooth motion she rose to her full height, bringing her slugthrower rifle to her soldier.

The Zygerrian caught the movement in the darkness and his eyes went wide.

Ji's rifle gave a snick-sound, and the Zygerrian's head burst apart.

Silenced, Kamick realized. It was one of the few advantages of slugthrowers over blasters.

"Run!" Ji ordered. "They are coming!"

Kamick did not need to be told twice.

They ran.

The slavers pursued.

Blaster bolts illuminated the tunnels, carving dark streaks into the ooze when they failed to find a target. The shots were mostly wild, and Drado periodically turned and launched a burst at the pursuers. Kamick led the run, seeking the exit through the maze using a chart plotted during the initial exploration on his datapad. He didn't bother firing, his weapon had no range.

"Here we go, last turn!" He called, surge around a bend with Ji close behind.

Blasterfire scorched the ground at his feet as he made the turn.

"Rut!" Kamick glanced up the slope to see a pair of slavers crouched behind barrels and firing down. He took a snap shot at one, but missed, hitting their cover.

Their ruby bolts traced closer.

"Back!" Ji ordered. "Go another way, we'll lose them in the maze!"

Drado was laying down covering fire, so Kamick crouched down and found the nearest side tunnel. "Let's go," he waved, and the others leaped to follow.

Abandoning all pretense of stealth, the deputy ran with glow rod in one hand and blaster in the other. His lungs burned in the stale air, despite his fitness, and Jia Ji struggled behind him. Though the small woman was in good shape, her petite frame made for a small stride, and she was soon gasping for breath.

Drado kept up easily, but the Kyuzo was in the vulnerable rear. More and more often he had to snap his head down, taking blaster bolts on the proofed surface of his circular hat and firing blind to suppress the enemy.

"They're getting closer!" Kamick called to Ji, hoping for a plan.

"They are dispersing their force to..." she paused to breathe. "Encircle us!" She explained. "Press on, we'll hit a weak point and break through."

It was a better plan than he had. At the next intersection he dashed right, then left, then left again, and they were running down a long, narrow, tunnel.

Maybe we've gotten ahead of them, Kamick dared to hope as blaster fire slackened.

There was now a haze in the air, greenish and sickly, as if some of the ooze had been transformed to gas. It was dispersed, and didn't seem to hinder breathing, but it lent the surroundings a disgusting reflection in the pale light of the glow rod.

"Almost...there," Ji managed as the tunnel sloped upwards.

Light from the glow rod moving ahead widened out, indicating an open area.

We must have lost them, the deputy all but crowed. They'd have to cut us off before this.

The three resistance fighters dashed out into a roughly elliptical space, five other entrances spaced about.

The lights of several glow rods came up.

Each other passageway held three Zygerrians.

We are so dead, Kamick breathed out as he stopped cold.

"Not bad, meddlers," an older Zygerrian, his faux uniform bound with a great number of medals from slaving campaigns, clapped in mockery. "A good chase, but your knowledge of Smuggler's Run failed you."

Fifteen blasters were leveled at them. The slavers began to walk forward in slow, casual conquest.

Kamick tightened his grip on his weapon. Act quickly, he thought. Maybe with a snap attack I can take one with me. It was the fatalistic logic of the doomed sustaining him, nothing more. He twisted, hoping to hit the smirking slaver leader.

"The same could be said of you," a strange voice, slow, deliberate, and obviously synthesized, spoke from seemingly everywhere at once.

A wind appeared in the tunnel, summoned out of nowhere in the artificial atmosphere of the asteroid.

Kamick blinked against the sudden gust, and then he discovered he couldn't see.

The green haze had returned, an order of magnitude thicker, obscuring everything.

A blaster fired.

The ruby energy exploded outward, racing through the air as if a bottle of lightning had been smashed open. The brightness of it was utterly blinding.

Kamick dropped to the floor, shoving his blaster into his holster and drawing his snap baton.

He hadn't even finished when he heard the first Zygerrian scream. More outcries followed, moving from the far door towards the trio.

Not that Kamick stayed in one place. He grasped his best memory of the Zygerrian commander and charged. I wish I had my shield! It was a random thought in the madness of the moment.

There was the distinctive sounds of small blades striking flesh as Drado's throwing knives began to claim victims. This was joined by a piercing whine to the left of the deputy, and a sudden stun-blast like discharge.

A flash intruded on this madness, and the green fog was blown away.

Someone threw a grenade at the ceiling, Kamick noted in the part of his brain not suddenly discovering a Zygerrian within arms length and occupied with putting everything into the swing of half a meter of durasteel alloy.

Three quick blows in succession, cracking bones and driving the slaver howling to the floor, and Kamick's eyes were able to catch up with events.

Drado whirled in one end of the hall. The Kyuzo had a knife in each hand and was without his hat. The circular object was lying atop the head of a fallen slaver, and others nearby had taken knives to lethal places.

Jia Ji had ended up almost directly opposite Kamick, and she was a sight. The slight woman had blood spray all over her torso, and a pair of slavers lay before her with hideous gaping holes in their bodies. The instrument of this destruction was a two-meter long pole pole of whitish metal topped by a wicked multi-edged vibroblade. A two-handed force pike, the deputy recognized. A rare and usually ceremonial weapon, but it seemed to belong in her hands, and there was no arguing with the results.

Two others were to be found among the slavers.

First of these was a droid. Humanoid in form, it had an armored frame, solid visor optics, and flexible feet on a triangular base. The droid was in the process of effortlessly dismembering several slavers with a long, thin vibroblade. ""Wretched, inferior opponents," it proclaimed smartly. "Show me something worthy before dying why don't you!" The droid was joined in combat by a feminine figure even lesser in stature than Ji, but considerably more intimidating. Though the droid's model was beyond Kamick's experience, every law enforcement officer in the galaxy worth a damn could recognize an Ubese environment suit.

The Ubese twisted her head when the mist dissipated, pulled a bayoneted blaster rifle out of a Zygerrian's chest, and promptly put two bolts through the slavers in front of Kamick.

That left the leader and a pair of guards.

Kamick charged before the nearest could raise his pistol.

The Zygerrian blocked with an arm shielded by a gauntlet. The deputy responded by kicking him in the knee. Stepping back to dodge the slaver made space and Kamick shifted his grip on the baton, jabbing straight into the stomach.

It did not inflict a crippling wound, but drove the breath from his foe. The slaver stumbled. Grabbing the baton with both hands Kamick came across with all his strength.

He hit across the Zygerrian's temple, smashing the horns above the left eyebrow. The alien crumpled as if boneless.

The guard charging the Ubese woman carried a full-length electrostaff. Kamick looked at the match-up in fear. She hasn't got the reach!

As if it happened in slow motion the deputy saw the masked warrior idly let go of the blaster rifle with her left hand and then flick it in the direction of the Zygerrian.

He went flying backwards through the air, slamming into the jagged asteroid walls harder than if hit by a hover truck.

The world seemed to go still.

"Zeison Sha!" the Zygerrian leader howled. He picked up a massive vibro-axe, a weapon discarded by one of his fallen comrades, and charged with it over his head.

The tiny Ubese woman jumped, flipped in midair and connected with crouched knees on the ceiling. The desperate attack came nowhere close.

In the next second she blasted the Zygerrian in the head.

"Fool," the synthetic voice, generated by the cruel gray-visage of the long helmet muzzle, was terrifying.

Even Drado stood in place, the last of the slavers bleeding out over his right arm, as everyone turned to their surprise rescuer.

It would be Jia Ji who managed to speak first.

She stepped forward and, as if the blood splattered all across her clothing and the coating of ooze on the rest meant nothing, bowed to the Ubese, placing her hands together at the waist. "I thank you for the timely assistance. Apologies if I am mistaken, but you are the Zeison Sha Warrior Xulin, are you not? We are most grateful for your intervention."

The Ubese did nothing for the moment, but the droid, moving with shocking swiftness, was instantly next to her. "It is very nice to meet someone with manners for a change," he quipped, then bowed in turn, slightly less deep than Ji had. "I am known as Etch, on behalf of Mistress Xulin I accept your thanks."

For his actions the droid was rewarded with a lighthearted punch in the side. "What did I say about calling me mistress?" Xulin demanded, directing her formidable mask at the warrior machine.

"But this is an auspicious encounter!" the droid protested, and Xulin put her hands on her hips in response.

Kamick began to feel slightly ridiculous. These two were joking over a considerable number of corpses. Rut, he thought, adrenalin beginning to fade. I've never been in anything close to this type of fight before. I just beat two slavers to death! His hands shaking slightly, he pointedly collapsed the baton and holstered it. The deputy focused on the Ubese, it was a way of occupying his attention.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Ji interrupted gently. "I sought you out when we arrived, but no one knew your location." She paused. "Pardon, I have been discourteous. I am Jia Ji, a fellow member of the Discblade Alliance. My companions are Drado and Kamick Travan."

The Ubese seemed to consider this, at least she took a few steps back and forth. It was impossible to get anything from a mask and body completely covered in armor. "Is anyone injured?" she asked eventually.

"No Mistress Xulin," Etch replied first.

"Some scrapes and bruises during the flight," Ji muttered, looking back to Kamick and Drado. The deputy met her eyes. He, amazingly, hadn't been seriously hit. "But it seems we are otherwise hale."

"What will you do next?" Xulin asked Ji.

Kamick did a double-take, looking back from one woman to the other. Ji seemed unsurprised, but he was shocked. It seemed obvious Xulin should take command. This was her turf. Besides, she was Zeison Sha! It was unfathomable. Was this some kind of test? He'd never met one of the Force users before, perhaps this was their way of measuring others.

Looking at Xulin, Kamick was struck by a strange, eerie observation. She does not carry a Discblade? Why?

"We must strip these bodies," Ji decided, all soldier for the moment. "You must have local contacts who can use the equipment. Then if you can lead us to a safe place to talk? I doubt this was a meeting of coincidence."

"A good plan," Xulin nodded. "Etch," she turned to the droid. "Find a sack."

"Of course Mistress Xulin," the droid sighed. Kamick almost laughed, the unit had clearly been built for combat, manual labor seemed an insult to it. Only Xulin's frightful visage held his tongue.

"Pay special attention to any datapads and cards," Ji amended. "This may be are only chance to acquire such information."

Kamick turned to the bloody and torn bodies of the Zygerrians and forced himself to contemplate taking everything from the still-warm deceased. Has to be done, he told himself. Has to be done.

Choking back bile, he got to work.

**Chapter Notes**

Ubese are a canonical species, well known on the galactic fringe. The suit and helmet Princess Leia wears when delivering Chewbacca to Jabba the Hutt in ROTJ is that of an Ubese.

Somewhat oddly, Kamick and Ji both use telescoping melee weapons, but while hers is an exotic vibro-pike, he uses the kind of baton currently used by cops today.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Between Spaces**

**Skip 1, Smuggler's Run**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

"So how is it you happened to assist us?" Ji asked Xulin when they returned to the _Nomad Sentry_'s docking bay. The Ubese woman had refused to reveal any secret hideaways within the asteroid she knew.

"I have sharp eyes," the Zeison Sha was frightfully opaque, but Ji was uncertain how much was deliberate and how much was an Ubese simply being Ubese. Conversation was not a strong point of the species. "I watch the tunnels closely, your men went probing around earlier, and I marked that out as worth following. As to helping you," she shrugged, one of the few motions noticeable through the environment suit. "I know the tunnels better than almost everyone. I grew up here."

"I see," Ji suspected there was something more to it, probably involving the Force, but it would be pointless to ask for an explanation she would be unable to understand. She pressed in the code to unlock the Phoenix-Hawk's boarding ramp and motioned for everyone to come aboard.

"How cramped," Xulin's droid, Etch, remarked critically.

"Hardly important Etch," Xulin rose to the bait.

Watching this exchange Ji wondered at the pair, they were oddly contrasted. A Trang Robotics Duelist Elite, she thought wryly. One of the most expensive droids on the market serving an Ubese raised in smuggler tunnels. I wonder how that happened? Of course, it would be exceedingly rude to ask. "Despite her lack of comforts, _Nomad Sentry_ is a functional vessel," Ji defended her ship. "She will get us out of Smuggler's Run in haste, which I suspect may well be necessary at this time."

Coming up behind the Zeison Sha Kamick nodded in response to this comment. "We got lucky tonight, doubt we will again," the cop echoed her sentiment. "Hope we can crack the datacards for something good.

Ji had a similar desire, but she did not place much trust in it. If the Zygerrians were intelligent they had kept the true details of their contract with the mysterious backer in oral form, no recordings anywhere. All they really knew now was it must be someone of considerable power and wealth in the Kalat Arm. The list of candidates was not extensive, but they were still directionless. It was disappointing, especially after winning a battle, but she suspected they would learn nothing more on the Run. Intelligence gathering is difficult when fighting for your life. "Drado, Kamick, get started on takeoff preparations. I will speak to our benefactor ere she must depart."

Xulin shook her head. "You should not leave yet," the synthesized voice of the Ubese woman was instantly attention-grabbing, regardless of what she said. Slow and measured, with brutal mechanical force, every pronouncement felt important.

"I'd rather not take chances with a Zygerrian ambush," Ji countered cautiously. She did not like arguing with a Zeison Sha. Xulin was not a famous name among the group, but she was important to the Discblade Alliance at this significant location, it felt like she should be taking orders. Only Xulin's typically Zeison Sha avoidance of leadership gave Ji any courage to assert herself.

"The reach of the slavers extends only across Skip 1," the Zeison Sha explained. "It would take them some time to barter for an attack on another Skip."

"So we can just switch asteroids?" Kamick commented. "That doesn't seem right."

Ji saw Xulin's point immediately. "Each Skip has its own master, who must give approval when members of another faction visit, as among provinces." She was willing to take a small risk. "A few days might be enough to find another target after this, but should keep risk minimal." They may have no way to identify us anyway, she hoped. Waiting briefly might allow Xulin to confirm this one way or another. She must have contacts in the local underground.

"Where do we go?" Kamick wondered. "This is the main asteroid."

"Skip 2," Xulin announced.

"What's on Skip 2?" the deputy questioned, his lack of familiarity with the Kalat Arm showing.

Ji understood immediately what the Zeison Sha had in mind, and felt her body quiver in fear. "Are you certain that's wise?"

"With the word out from Coldiron you'll get nothing from the bottom up," the Ubese explained dispassionately. "Cut to the top now and there is still a chance to grasp a portion of truth."

Drado interjected a sharp rebuke from the cockpit.

"I agree," Ji noted, and turned back to the Zeison Sha. "You are asking us to gamble with our lives. To step into a situation where another will make a choice and determine everything."

"Risks must be taken," Xulin shrugged again. "I will arrange the meeting with Xerweg, he knows me. I will also accompany you the whole way. You do not do this alone."

"Xerweg?" Ji caught Kamick with his mouth wide open, staring down at the Zeison Sha. "You want us to meet with Xerweg the Hutt? He'll execute us!"

"He might," Ji noted, and the idea was rather frightening on its face. Examining it further in her mind, she found Xulin's suggestion less reckless than it seemed. "But he probably won't. Killing a Zeison Sha at a public meeting might be survivable for Xerweg, possibly, but it would surely send Zeison Sha currently working against the Empire after him. He can't want that, it would cost a fortune in money and influence." That was rarely how Hutts would play the game. "So long as we avoid giving grievous insult; I believe in this case the risks are outweighed by the rewards."

"If I go to this meeting, I'm pretending to be a mute," Kamick promised.

Ji thought she understood his discomfort. He is not used to operating at this level. Neither am I, she admitted privately. But I am much closer. Nor am I a cop alone. It must be very hard, she considered. To be trained in operations as if many others support you, and have that all lost. "Will you travel with us to Skip 2?" She asked Xulin, her decision made.

"Yes," the Ubese woman answered. "I will remain with you for now. The true extent of what these slavers intend is unknown, but the Discblade Alliance must work against it."

"Then let's get moving," Ji instructed.

It took a few minutes to power up the _Nomad Sentry_ and get what passed for launch clearance before they exited the docking bay into the tumbling morass of the asteroid field making up the Run. Ji moved slowly, charting her course with great care. The ship maneuvered well and had been designed for easy handling, but she was no fighter jockey. Path-finding from one asteroid to another while avoiding tumbling hunks of rock and streaking cross traffic was no easy task.

The first few minutes of the short flight were uneventful, though with five beings clustered in the cockpit the ship felt rather crowded and Ji was extremely self-conscious of her piloting. She compressed her lips and forced her mind to focus.

This concentration was broken when Xulin suddenly stood up.

"What is it?" Kamick asked the Zeison Sha, puzzled.

"Mistress Xulin," Etch spoke up even as Xulin was already walking toward him. "I believe there is a vessel moving onto an intercept course."

Ji's focus switched to the sensors, so she saw the ship appear several seconds later, blasting in at high speed.

She pushed the Nomad Sentry to accelerate in response, hurrying toward Skip 2. Will they actually open fire? She wondered. The space around Smuggler's Run was supposed to be neutral, but who knew how far honor among thieves could be trusted. "What's after us?" she demanded. Whatever it happens to be, it's closing fast.

Kamick read off the screen from a passenger console. "Computers says a YZ-900 freighter, don't know it." The deputy admitted quickly.

"It's the _Ironstar_," Xulin proclaimed. "The Coldiron's flagship."

Ji did some quick sums in her head, and then asked one question. "Do you fly?" she shouted at the Zeison Sha, only to receive a quick negative head shake.

"Drado, take the controls!" she told the Kyuzo, jumping from her seat as she did so. "Get us in to Skip 2 and hug the surface. Don't try to land."

The warrior barked an acknowledgment, and grasped the controls in a moment. Then he jerked them hard, launching into the tightest spin the vessel could manage. _Nomad Sentry_ surged with power, burning hard close to a rolling asteroid several times her size, then whipping around in a new direction as Drado pressed the ship for everything she could give.

"This vessel is non-standard," Xulin noted, her mask hiding any excitement or fear she might be experiencing. "A Phoenix-Hawk should not be this fast."

"The engines and thrusters were upgraded by the previous owners," Ji explained, trying to settle into a new seat as the Kyuzo's maneuvers began to burn out the inertial compensators. Drado's much better than me, but he's all intuition. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

"What happened to them?" Kamick's question was an attempt to make light of the suddenly tense situation.

They had been a ORO picket unit, Ji recalled. "My team killed them."

"Oh," the deputy fell silent.

Despite Drado's acrobatics, the _Ironstar_ closed the distance. In moments the freighter was in range, and opened fire with a quartet of quad lasers.

_Nomad Sentry_ bucked and shuddered, and warning lights appeared all over the shield display.

"Rut that!" Kamick shouted. "How do you pack that kind of power in a ship that size?"

"It was designed for paramilitary use," Xulin noted. "And has been extensively upgraded." Her flat machine voice was anything but comforting.

"We need to return fire," Ji recognized in a hurry. "Can you handle a blaster cannon?" she asked the deputy.

"No problem," Kamick smiled with real enthusiasm.

"Get down there then, I will man the ion cannons," Ji instructed.

"No," Xulin interjected. "You must not return fire, keep heading for Skip 2."

Drado shot back a retort.

"He's right. The shields will never last if we keep letting them pound on us!" Ji protested.

"A problem," the Zeison Sha acknowledged. "But fire now and doom is certain."

Ji wavered. Did she trust the Zieson Sha's advice or not? She was silent for several long seconds.

"Missiles!" Etch thrust into the scene.

Ji turned to the sensor board in horror. Two concussion missiles were bearing down on them.

Another alarm trilled.

"Shields are gone," she breathed, and felt the impact of lasers against the hull plating. Drado swung them through a sharp turn that put them out of the way of the barrage, but it wouldn't last. "If those missiles hit us that's it."

"They won't," Xulin spoke.

Ji turned to see the Zeison Sha pressed up against the hull, holding her entire body in contact with the ship, vibrating at every jerk and jolt.

"Ten seconds to impact!" Etch called.

Kamick and Ji's eyes met, and both stared at the small Ubese woman, wondering if she could make good on her promise.

"Five seconds!"

So this is my end? Ji wondered, oddly calm.

The missiles exploded.

Everyone aboard was thrown against straps hard, and Ji felt the pull burn. I'll have bruises tomorrow, she noted dispassionately. But why am I not dead?

"Amazing," Kamick breathed. "They both hit debris or something," he turned back to Xulin. "You changed their course somehow, didn't you, with the Force, right?"

"Yes," for the first time there was a hint of emotion in the Zeison Sha's voice. A slight rasp accompanied her words.

"Are you alright Mistress Xulin?" Etch was instantly by her side, putting a durasteel-plated arm under her shoulder.

"I am fine," the Ubese straightened quickly, pushing the droid away. "Just not used to such speeds."

"They haven't given up," Ji noted as the plasma cloud cleared from the missile burst. The _Ironstar_ was coming back for the kill.

Then she something else on sensors. "Multiple contacts, it's..." She couldn't help it, she let out a whoop of joy. "A squad of Daggers!"

"This is Longrun Shipping Security," a voice, modulated by a flight helmet, but powerful and stern, announced over the common channel. "_Ironstar_, you are engaged in unlicensed combat inside our security zone. You are to power down immediately and prepare to be towed into dock."

Without deigning to reply the slaver vessel made an abrupt turn and started a hard burn for open space.

"So you want to do this the hard way, fine by me," the Daggers, sleek purple ships consisting of three sharp forward panels around a ball cockpit, accelerated hard.

"They won't make it," Ji assessed immediately, silently gesturing to Drado to switch roles again. "Those quad lasers won't allow them to make a consistent pass, they'll make hyperspace."

"Of course," Xulin concurred. "Xerweg's men are not paid enough to risk their lives for such things."

"_Nomad Sentry_," the same voice had switched to a direct channel. "You are ordered to docking bay seventeen. A security representative will meet you as soon as you are on the ground."

"Acknowledged," Ji replied. "And thanks for all your hard work boys," she added in her best sultry voice. "I'll buy you a drink sometime."

This brought a good-natured chuckle from the other end. "I'll remember the offer," the fighter pilot said before signing off.

"Flirting?" Kamick questioned from behind her.

"Fighter jocks have considerable egos," Ji remarked calmly. "They are easy to appeal to, and you never know when it will be helpful to have a friend somewhere."

"I guess," he seemed vaguely bothered by the whole thing. Ji refrained from giggling. Don't think all officers are joyless, deputy.

Skip 2, as befitted the unofficial headquarters of the largest shipping firm and crime syndicate in the Kalat Arm, had large and expansive docking bays with excellent facilities. Landing was simplicity itself, despite the scrapes the ship had just been through. Ji had no complaints on those grounds.

The squad of heavily armed guards appearing to greet them was considerably less welcome. "It would have been preferable to arrive with rather less fanfare," she noted.

"What is, is," Xulin spoke simply. "It must be addressed."

"So it must," Ji acknowledged, though she found little to share with the Ubese's sentiments. "We should not keep them waiting."

The security team was made up of a mix of species, and the true identities of several were hidden behind full helmets. They all had fully functional blaster rifles, however, and appeared quite competent, far more professional than the Zygerrians, if less savage. Ji walked out to meet the man in the center, clearly their leader.

"You have been involved in a partial security breach," the officer began. "You will come with us for inspect-" He stopped, somehow Xulin had gotten behind him and was prodding him in the rear with the her bayoneted rifle.

"We're here to speak with Xerweg the Hutt," her voice echoed against the walls of the docking bay, alien and menacing. "On urgent Discblade Alliance business; and that's all were doing."

"But I must assess the threat!" the man protested. He's worried about his own hide, Ji kept her face completely level, though she was secretly amused.

"I am Xulin, a Zeison Sha Warrior," the Ubese proclaimed. Security guards, previously considering who to shoot first, were sudden glancing toward the exits. "My word that we offer no threat to Xerweg or his business. Is that not enough?"

"No, no, that is more than sufficient," the guard nodded furiously. "I had no idea there was a Zeison Sha aboard, I was just enacting standard procedure you see."

"Credible." Xulin noted.

"Um..." the guard hesitated. "His excellency Xerweg is most busy, but I'm certain he could see you tonight..."

"We could not possibly impose on his excellency so," Ji interrupted, worried Xulin would take up this offer. Ubese and social graces were foreign to each other. "And we are not presentable for such an auspicious audience." She gestured to her bloodstained garments. "At his excellency's convenience tomorrow would surely be best for all involved."

"Yes, yes, of course, that makes perfect sense, I'll see to it," the guard stammered. "I'll get on that immediately," he looked pointedly at Xulin. "Please stay within the docking bay until someone comes to get you. I'm sure we'll all sleep better that way."

"Of course, it would not do to impose," Ji gave a modest nod of her head in acknowledgment.

"Right..." the man looked around, and Xulin was once again gone, back with the other resistance members. "Well, I'll get to work on the arrangements. See you tomorrow." The security team marched out, quicker than strictly necessary.

"All right," Ji turned back to the others. "Clothes in the wash now, then the refresher, then sleep. We're going to need to do our best to look sharp for this."

"Appearances will not fool Xerweg," Xulin noted from beside her.

"Fool no," Ji admitted. You didn't fool a Hutt crime lord with centuries of experience. "But they will show respect."

Kamick and Drado both nodded. Cops and warriors both understood what she meant. They might not think a Hutt worthy of respect, but sincerity was no part of the game. "Okay, let's get moving," Ji added. She was tired, and hoped to get at least some sleep.

Blade struck blade in rapid succession, and sparks flew on the duracrete of the docking bay.

"Not bad!" Etch twisted back, ducking low and stabbing for the face, forcing Drado to back off, lest he be skewered while lunging to connect with his knives.

The droid, utilizing joints far more limber than any human could hope to possess, shot forward, weaving his thin vibroblade back and forth in a sequence of sharp cuts.

Drado lowered his head, blocking with the armored surface of his hat, kicking out low in a cross-combo using both feet.

Etch jumped, flipping away, resetting the situation and charging in once more.

The Kyuzo's hat became a spinning weapon, whipping through the air towards the droid.

Sidestepping with snap-quick reactions, the duelist elite shifted from stab to sweep, rotating the edge out in a clipping blow.

Drado blocked with the knife in his right hand low, and then snapped the left across in a quick throwing motion.

Etch countered, barely, by side-kicking and skewing the aim, but the droid had to flip back and make swift blocks to avoid a trio of knives thrown in quick succession.

Drado's hat came flying back the other way. Etch dodged easily, but the circular device was easily caught by the Kyuzo, ready to be deployed again.

"Good, very good," Etch admitted. "But can you block this."

The duelist Elite settled into a dense fighting crouch, blade before it, body tucked to spring.

His Kyuzo opponent brought up a blade in each hand, held back for ready close counters.

Both were perfectly poised.

"Stop!" Ji shouted.

At the same moment Xulin called out. "Enough!"

The heads of the two combatants turned, disappointment could be seen on both faces.

"You're both going to get hurt at this rate," Ji admonished. She had been terrified at the end, they could have both ended up dead. Etch had been designed to fight against the very best, while Drado had worked tirelessly to become just that. It was a deadly combination. "Besides, that's enough playing around, we have important work to do today."

Neither seemed convinced by this argument, the scent of challenge was too strong.

"Looks like the medical scan results are finished," Kamick called from the _Nomad Sentry_, providing a welcome distraction. "I've got no alerts, but I suppose you want to review it."

"Yes, I'll be over in a moment," Ji gave her best stern stare at droid and alien. "You two get cleaned up, I suspect Xerweg will call at any moment." Xulin added in a fierce nod from her right.

"As you command," Etch sighed glumly. Drado merely grunted.

Despite their disappointment, Ji had confidence neither would do anything stupid. Etch's programming made it impossible for him put personal desires ahead of a command, he couldn't be that rude, and Drado would never violate his code so far as to disobey an order for a lark. She went inside the Phoenix-Hawk. She suspected Kamick was correct, but you always took a second look.

To her surprise Xulin followed.

Ji stood beside Kamick scrolling down the screen of results. "Yes, we do all seem to be within normal ranges." She focused on Drado's readouts. Kyuzo biology wasn't all that well understood, but she'd gotten an idea from previous battles of what his baseline was supposed to look like.

To Ji's great surprise, Xulin reached over an encased arm and pressed a button on the console, scrolling down and highlighting a single line.

Recovering quickly, the squad leader read off the indication. "Midi-chlorian count?" What is that? She wondered. I've never seen such a statistic before.

"This ship predates the Empire, and its medical system had not been updated in decades," Xulin answered the unasked question. "Therefore it has not been scrubbed out." The Ubese's visor scanned slowly back and forth, reading off each line.

Then she jolted back.

Ji turned around to watch as Xulin extended her left hand and poked Kamick in the center of his chest with an index finger. The deputy looked down at the Ubese in puzzlement, which changed to utter confusion at her next words.

"Six thousand," somehow the mask-generated voice seemed to pronounce each utterance with incredible import. "You are Zeison Sha to be."

"Wha-...what?" Kamick sputtered, bewilderment everywhere in him.

Ji was in shock herself. The deputy can use the Force? He had good intuition, sure, she acknowledged that, and seemed to be very aware of what was happening, but a Zeison Sha? "He is Force Sensitive?" she managed to get out, trying to stabilize the moment.

"Yes," Xulin seemed frightfully calm. "I suspected one of you might be. I thought it was the Kyuzo, but that was a childish assumption on my part."

"But, but I don't have any special powers!" Kamick protested.

"That is normal, for untrained humans especially," Xulin noted. "But your hunches are usually correct are they not? You have a tendency to guess correctly when you are getting to an answer?"

His face gave the answer away slowly, as Ji watched the young man scour his memory. "So I can be Zeison Sha then?" Kamick questioned, still incredulous. "I can do what you do?"

"In time, with instruction and awareness," The Ubese woman's reticence was frustrating as usual. Ji wished she would be more open. I wonder if there were signs I should have been looking for?

"Can you teach me?" the deputy asked the Ubese, coming up very close in his emotional rush.

"No," Xulin shook her head. "I am not ready to teach, and this is my place, not yours."

"But-," Kamick began.

"Save it," Ji hated to interrupt, but the time had come. "Our friends from last night are back. It's time to go meet with Xerweg. This will have to wait."

Kamick started to protest, but Ji made him stare at her. I can't let this tear things apart. Pity it couldn't have happened after the meeting. "It takes years to be fully trained as a Zeison Sha," she told him. "I know that much of them. A few hours will make no difference in that now, but offend Xerweg and you will never survive to learn anything."

"Right, right," he swallowed hard. "Thanks, I'll keep it together, I will."

"Good," Ji was relieved. Kamick would be incredibly nervous, but hopefully he wouldn't need to say anything in what was to come. "Now, fall in behind me, we should try to make this look as professional as possible."

Xerweg will try to take everything and give away nothing, Ji knew. It was the Hutt way. I must hope our goals align sufficiently to learn what we can. He must know something to make this more than a hunt in the dark, if only I can force it to be revealed. She knew she wasn't ready for this, who could be, but she held her head high and marched out anyway. There was no other choice now.

**Chapter Notes**

Trang Robotics Duelist Elites are canon droids. The story of how Xulin and Etch ended up together is told in the Tales of the Kalat Arm.

YZ-900 freighters are an existing model, more a paramilitary ship than a transport.

Dagger starfighters are canon Clone Wars vintage starfighters that served as a precursor to the TIE line.

Xulin's reference to midi-chlorians is based on simple blood tests. Though by this time in most of the galaxy the Empire has suppressed the data, many systems in the Kalat Arm are old enough to predate this modification.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Truth and Pain**

**Skip 2, Smuggler's Run**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Two words dominated Kamick's thoughts as he marched out behind Jia Ji to meet the security escort.

Zeison Sha.

His whole life was uprooted. How can that be right? How? I can't use the Force, can I?

Xulin said he could, another Zeison Sha had claimed him as one of theirs. He had trouble imagining it in any way. Can I really become like that? He wondered, feeling awed, scared, and blessed all at once. He'd seen Xulin crush a man with a flick of the wrist, jump onto a ceiling and shoot a perfect hit, and control obscuring mist. Stories said that was the least of what the Zeison Sha were capable of achieving. Move massive boulders, summon howling winds, and strike ten men down with one throw of their Discblades, all this and more was said of the Force users of Yanibar, and Kamick believed. The Ubese woman was more than enough proof.

But what else is there? He wondered as Ji motioned for everyone to fall into line with her. The security guards led them along, but Kamick was hardly paying attention. He'd learned to march in training, it was an activity requiring no focus on his part.

I've heard so many stories about the Zeison Sha, but I don't know anything about them. Their powers were only the least of it, he'd seen it in Xulin's demeanor, in the different way she acted. She was not just a silent warrior in the mold of Drado, she was something more, in tune to something greater. It must be the Force, he guessed, but I don't understand. What is the Force, anyway? He'd never learned anything in school. The Empire didn't like anyone to talk about the Force.

The Zeison Sha were utterly opposed to the Empire, that Kamick knew perfectly. They had rallied the people to fight when the Empire came, had built the foundations of the Discblade Alliance and still fought harder than anyone else. No generals though, no politicians, he'd never heard of such, a gap in his understanding. Even Xulin had let Ji take the authority. Why?

The deputy's thought remained jumbled, unfocused, as they were led down long sterile corridors and past a great many docking bays, loading cranes, and other shipping gear.

Lost in his own concerns he missed the point where the backdrop suddenly changed to one of opulence, the fine furnishings and refined tastes of the headquarters of a captain of industry. Stang, Kamick cursed himself for not paying attention. They must be close.

Part of his training had covered Hutts. They were said to prefer great palace fortresses, filled with symbols of oppression, gluttony, and coarse entertainment. This display did not properly fit the preset image. Oh it was certainly defensible, hidden reinforcement and security cameras could be seen everywhere, but no massive gates, thuggish guards, or symbols of torture could be seen. In fact, it all seems rather well done, the deputy had to admit. He wouldn't trust his sense of style very far, but there was a classic, regal presentation to the environment. The intended message was obvious enough. It was rich and powerful, but not without class.

Well, the deputy recalled. Xerweg was said to be eccentric for a Hutt.

A quartet of security guards in rich livery, in the gray, blue and silver trim of Longrun Shipping, stood at a set a ornate stone doors. Imported, Kamick noted, for it bore no resemblance whatsoever to the stones of the asteroid field. Hand carved, too, he'd never seen anything like it. The image was a mystery to him, some battle scene of Hutts fighting a mix of humans and battle droids. It looked old though.

"His Excellency Xerweg the Hutt will receive you now," one of the guards intoned.

The doors opened into a high-vaulted chamber, dimly lit and mostly empty. Only a handful of guards, droids, and courtiers were present.

Ji led them in, with Xulin on her right and Kamick on the left. Drado and Etch brought up the rear. The deputy noticed Ji was suddenly walking different. Stang, how does she glide like that? The woman's motions were the epitome of grace, flowing across the silver carpet without ruffling a thing, her upper body perfectly poised. It took considerable effort to tear his eyes away.

They settled again on Xerweg.

The Hutt was a sight of his own. He rested on a raised repulsorsled, his massive bulk added to this to grant him a significant height over everyone else in the room. It was a repulsive bulk, Kamick guessed close to four meters in length all the way down to the tail, and nothing but shuddering layers of muscle and fat piled on and on. Green with yellow and gray spots and leering eyes the size of a man's fist, it reminded him of nothing so much as a putrid patch of Skip 1 ooze. As reported the Hutt had a massive maw and stubby arms, but they were not the weak, nearly useless things he had expected. That arm's almost as thick as my waist! He realized in surprise. And its got a lot of muscle. He suspected the Hutt could hit with incredible strength if necessary.

Xerweg looked up from an oversized datapad as they entered, eyes rolling over his visitors lazily. Nujit thinks we're not important, Kamick caught the point of the move, but made his body stay relaxed. Ji had told him to be careful, and he hoped to get through this without saying a word.

Ji reached a point approximately five meters from the dais. There she stopped, and still moving with smooth grace, went to her knees. The deputy could not comprehend how she kept her skirt unruffled in that move. Then she bent deeply at the waist, displaying considerable flexibility, until her forehead tapped the ground in front of her.

"Your Excellency Xerweg the Hutt honors us above our means to provide thanks with this audience," Ji spoke with reverence.

Hesitantly Kamick also went to his knees and bowed, though he could not mimic Ji's motion or grace. A flick of his vision noted that Drado had sat down cross-legged and tilted his head to the ground. I suppose that's the Kyuzo approach, he mused. Even Etch had made a formal bow one hand at his waist, the other behind. Only Xulin remained unchanged.

Xerweg's massive mouth broke into a wide smile, and then he laughed. "Nice, very nice," he rumbled, Hutt voice booming with power even at mild phrases. Xerweg spoke Huttese, and with better articulation than anyone else Kamick had ever heard. Figures, he thought. The Hutts would design a language to make them sound like kings. "It's been some time since anyone displayed such graces visiting me. I'll make an exception for little Xulin of course, such a precious child."

The Zeison Sha's head whipped around with lightning speed, and Kamick would have bet money her face was on fire underneath the mask.

"Stand up, stand up," Xerweg waved his arms at all of them. "Talking to you with your faces in the floor would be ridiculous."

Kamick rose quickly, wishing he could mimic Ji's grace in the motion. She is practiced at this.

"Much better, yes," the Hutt grinned again, looking as if he might swallow someone whole. "Now, my worthless excuse for a security force has informed me as to how you got here," he remained surprisingly jovial while insulting the staff. "But they have been short on details, so I believe introductions are in order. I, of course, am Xerweg, the president and CEO of Longrun Shipping and the chief administrator of Smuggler's Run."

Yeah, right, Kamick had only been on Smuggler's Run for three days, but he'd seen enough to know anyone claiming to 'administer' it was lying through their teeth. Or gums, as the case may be, he amended, noting the nature of Xerweg's ridged muscular maw.

Ji took upon the conversation for the group. "I am Jia Ji of Tianjiang, an officer in the Discblade Alliance," she began. "With me are the Zeison Sha Warrior Xulin of Smuggler's Run, and her companion Etch, of the Duelist Elite." Don't we all sound impressive, Kamick suppressed an amused grin before it could grow. "Those who came with me are Drado, Master-at-Arms, of Indoumodo."

The Kyuzo's from that poisonous sore of a planet? The deputy was even more impressed than before, but he had no time to think on it, as Ji continued. "And Kamick Travan, a Sheriff's Deputy of Lavestral."

Kamick felt a vise tighten around his throat. Why did she say that? She'd just told the most powerful criminal in the entire Kalat Arm that he was a cop. You've killed me!

Then he caught the look in Xerweg's eyes as they canvased him. There was not even the faintest glimmer of surprise. He already knew, and Ji knew that and revealed the truth instead, the deputy discovered. He recalled another fact about Hutts from his training then. They live for a thousand years. Xerweg's been at this for centuries. If he hadn't been briefed beforehand; he saw it in the first step I took from the door.

"Jia Ji you say?" Xerweg paused. "From Tianjiang?" Without changing outwardly at all, the Hutt's grin suddenly became a cruel leer. "You wouldn't by chance be of the Jia family of Tianjiang would you?"

"Yes, I am," Ji visibly tensed for an instant. Though her body returned to control thereafter, Kamick had seen it, and he was certain Xerweg had.

"Oh really, how interesting," the Hutt gave no sign he was aware the topic made Ji uncomfortable. "I've had some dealings with that family in the past. What is your relation to them?"

Bastard, Kamick thought. He knows, he knows it all and he's forcing her to go through it anyway. This Hutt might not have filled his chamber with slave girls, abused animals, or bloody weapons, but he was absolutely cold and cruel. The rest was just an illusion. Concurrently he wondered, Jia family? Have I heard that before somewhere?

"My mother is Lady Jia Xiang," Ji's voice was a stone. "I am the fourth child."

"The child of Lady Jia herself," Xerweg chuckled. "How rare," He paused. "My dear, you really had no need to bow so low, it makes me look oppressive."

Jia family of Tianjiang, Tianjiang, Kamick tumbled the word through his mind. He knew he'd heard of it. It's a planet in Laclim Sector, something about canyons, land-control. Then it hit him.

She's nobility! Tianjiang, like many worlds, was controlled by a small number of people who owned most of the land and effectively the entire economy. The Jia family was one of the most important of a dozen or so aristocratic families. And Ji's the daughter of the clan head? The way she had flinched again at Xerweg's words confirmed it. The deputy didn't know what to think. Ji obviously had some issue with her status, even as the revelation explained all the mysteries he'd seen so far. Her skills, her carriage, even her use of the vibro-pike, all fit with a high-class upbringing. What did not fit was why she was slumming among the Discblade Alliance as a squad leader who did not even have a blaster rifle.

"It was simply an expression of my utmost respect for your position and conduct," Ji responded, after a brief pause, her composure returning.

Xerweg laughed, this time without menace. "Please, respect? Ha!" he pointed a thick finger over at the Zeison Sha. "You're friends with Xulin here, and she would like so very much to stick that long bayonet of hers all the way down my throat. Isn't that right little one?"

"Killing you now would only mean someone worse would take your place," Xulin managed, but she was literally shaking.

He throws Ji off-balance with a few references and blows through an Ubese's control in an instant, Kamick marveled. We are outmatched bad.

"Outlying grievances of the Zeison Sha notwithstanding," Ji interjected. "We are not here today out of enmity. Rather," she paused for emphasis. "I believe there are business matters to discuss."

"Business?" Xerweg put on the appearance of puzzlement. "Not clan business I should say. Your mother hasn't sent you as her emissary has she?"

Ji flinched again, and the deputy saw her hands clench and unclench. Hold on Ji, hold on, he tried to say silently. You can do this.

"No, not that," she managed. "The business of the Discblade Alliance I'm afraid."

"Ah, that," Xerweg's massive eyes narrowed. "Dangerous business that, opposing the Empire and all. Could get a person killed easily." He shook his great head. "It's a cruel beast the Empire, has no respect for anything but naked power, and too much of its own. I try not to get into the business of prodding rancors my dear."

"Two-timing-" Xulin began, but Ji raised a hand, halting the explosion that might have doomed them all. Kamick looked around at the motion and discovered it had not just been one crisis. Behind him Drado looked about ready to carve Xerweg into a roast. The Kyuzo was not taking the treatment of his commander well.

"You operate a massive shipping firm in a section of the galaxy without proper hyperspace routes, without customs officers or law enforcement, and filled with pirates, deadly aliens, and hideous toxic monsters and claim I am the one who prods rancors?" Ji riposted. "I suspect you risk more than my family's whole fortune every day, and the Empire or Discblade Alliance could reach out and shatter it all with a gesture."

Kamick did not know the color of Hutt blood, but Ji's remark had drawn a considerable store with those lines. Xerweg grunted and squirmed, tail lashing about. He cares not for lives, nor ethics, but the way to his heart is through piles of credits. "True, true, young lady, you have a sound sense for business, and too much risk is indeed bad for business." The Hutt could recover quickly as well. "But my dear, I fail to see why this means I should consider taking on more."

"True enough," the noblewoman acknowledged. "But I do not think we necessary offer you a risk. In fact, it may be the reverse, perhaps we can help increase your...security. Your excellency shall have to draw his own conclusions."

"Do tell then," the Hutt belowed. "What is it you are after?"

"It has come to the attention of the Discblade Alliance that a certain group of Zygerrians is trafficking in slaves," Ji forged ahead.

Xerweg laughed again. "If you gather ten Zygerrians in the same room and they do not start trafficking in such misery, then you would surprise me, otherwise how is this important?"

"I concede it is a weakness of the species," the noblewoman quipped. "However it is not the Zygerrians, but the slaves, presenting the quandary."

"Now that is a new wrinkle, the quandaries of slaves are usually brutally mundane," Xerweg flipped his great tongue about and conjured hideous images of unfed wretches with a handful of words. "Do go on."

"It seems someone has expressed an interest in a particular type of captive," Ji continued. "And in great number to the exclusion of all else."

"I do hope you are not bothering me to describe some specific species that has become the hot flavor of the market my dear," the Hutt scoffed. "If that is all, well, I may have to inflict considerable suffering on an analyst or two for missing the trend, but you would have wasted my time."

"It is not one species, but many," Kamick could tell that Ji, like he was, tried to avoid thinking about what Xerweg meant by 'considerable suffering.' "The vast flowering of the human tree all, and in particular our local branch."

"The Desga," Xerweg nodded. "Of course, you begin to intrigue me young Jia." His eyes rolled about slightly. "So the Coldirons are behind the scarcity of Desga slaves these days. I thought they might be."

Kamick listened to this carefully, but could not make sense of all of it. He had heard the word Desga many times, and knew they were a group of related near-human species. But why were they significant beyond that? Something else I must speak to Ji about.

"The Zygerrians are merely the tool," Ji elaborated, and this caused Xerweg to lean forward closely. She had caught the Hutt's attention now. "There is some other force behind them. Someone buying all they have acquired, indeed they have caused the slavers to go so far as to buy from your auctions and resale to this backer."

"Is that so?" Xerweg leaned back, scratching his massive gut with one hand. "It explains much. No Desga slave has gone unsold at auction in weeks, regardless of quality. That never happens, not even ORO buys the ones too weak to work."

"I am pleased to learn your excellency was aware of the problem," Ji noted. "And also to exclude you from the possible list of culprits."

The Hutt's eyes narrowed in not on Ji, but on Xulin. "Am I to assume something untoward is likely to happen to those responsible for this?"

"Probably," Xulin announced.

"The purpose behind this...this...collection..." Ji struggled for the right expression. "Is unlikely to be anything but nefarious. It is not a crime the Discblade Alliance will let go unpunished. I hope your excellency can see a mutual benefit to this necessity."

"Ah, young Jia," he waved his left hand in a slow circle. "That is tricky now isn't it? You are talking about a great many slaves, all purchased by one group. Tragically," he frowned massively. "We live in a poor, sparsely populated region of space. There are few here with such grand accounts. Certainly I could afford such a series of purchases, but you know I am not responsible for this. It cannot be Outer Rim Oreworks either, they use slaves for labor, and many of the Desga are a poor match for the mines." The Hutt mastermind linked his hands together before him. "And that leaves just one option."

The Empire, Kamick caught the implication, though no one in the room bothered to speak it aloud. It has to be the Empire, but why do they need slaves? Some secret installation?

"Your excellency is most gracious with his wisdom," Ji nodded her head. "But you must acknowledge the secrecy has created a problem, a business concern, for you."

"Oh?" Xerweg leaned forward again.

"The Zygerrians are the sole supplier of slaves on this project, they possess an exclusive contract, do they not?" Ji moved ahead quickly now, shortening the space between words, keeping Xerweg within her narrative. "If this project succeeds, surely they will be rewarded. It will not just be Desga offerings, but all slaves, perhaps across the entire Kalat Arm. The entire Imperial market, and their ally ORO as well no doubt. It would belong to the Zygerrians alone."

Xerweg had lived and breathed underworld economics since before Kamick's great-grandparents were born. The Hutt knew the market characteristics better than the back of his hands. "Ninety-percent," it was a whisper, but in the silence of the audience chamber everyone heard it.

Immediately the Hutt straightened up. "I see your point young lady," for the first time he did not disparage her by her surname. "And I will not be undercut by tasteless Zygerrian upstarts, especially not ones who chase ships into my territory. Not in a thousand years!" he slammed a massive first down on the repulsorsled.

The whole dais shook. Kamick tried not to image standing in front of that fist.

"But, but, but," Xerweg sank back down. "I cannot act brazenly. I have a business to run, so much to do, and many other demand upon my resources."

"I apologize for burdening your excellency with additional concerns," Ji bowed her head again. "Perhaps I can alleviate them. The Discblade Alliance intends for this project to fail. Its failure will become the Zygerrians' failure, and the threat to your business shall be eliminated. There need be no link to you at all."

"If that were true my dear," Xerweg waved away the suggestion. "You would not have come to see me."

"I confess there is a weakness to our intelligence," Ji was deliberately self-effacing. "Though we have tracked the activities of the Zygerrians, and we can guess who stands behind them, the points of connection have no far remained illusive."

"Ah, so you have come for Xerweg the Hutt's wisdom," he laughed uproariously. "It becomes clear at last. Perhaps we can aid each other, oh yes, but there is one small matter otherwise."

"And that is?" Ji had clearly not anticipated this pause in the narrative.

"I do know a thing you may well find useful, perhaps essential, and I would love to share it with you," his tongue licked his lower lip slowly, terribly. "But it is just not in me to give it to you for free, we must settle upon a price."

"I see," Ji covered quickly. "I do not believe your excellency is expecting credits. What have we to offer someone of your station?"

"It is a small thing really, hardly important at all," Kamick watched the Hutt's gaze shift from Ji back over to Xulin. There was a terrible hunger to those great orange eyes, and alien desire the deputy simply could not fathom. "Merely a curiosity of mine. I have met many Ubese in my life you see, but I have never once seen one take off their mask in my presence, and well, a corpse is simply not the same as a living being."

"You rutting slime-sucking sack of bantha poodo!" There was something about the cursing being delivered in a synthesized deadpan voice that made it all the more powerful.

Knowing he had to act immediately, Kamick did the only thing he could think to do. He threw himself at Xulin, going for one of the upper body holds he'd been taught as a deputy.

Xulin was a tiny woman, no more than one point four meters tall, and Kamick was a good hand-to-hand fighter, but the Zeison Sha threw the deputy off in a single move.

That was enough time for Drado and Etch to join in the process. The droid was most effective, for his durasteel-plated body was far heavier than any flesh and bone limb.

Xulin continued to scream curses as the three tried to restrain her. Kamick, reached at her again, thought she felt odd, somehow...cold.

"Enough!" Ji shouted, her voice one of military command.

"I'll kill him!" Xulin proclaimed, as Xerweg sat laughing on his floating throne.

"Are you a soldier of the Discblade Alliance?" Ji's voice was strung taunt.

"What?" Xulin snapped. "What does that matter?"

"Are your a soldier?" Ji demanded. "Do you fight for the people of the Kalat Arm?"

"Yes!" she kneed Drado in the head, flipped Etch to the ground, and threw Kamick, whose attention was no longer properly focused, onto his back. "Now let me loose!"

A thunderclap ripped through the audience chamber, and Drado and Etch were thrown many meters back, only the warriors' great athletics kept them from smashing into stone walls.

"No!" Ji shouted back. "As a soldier you will follow my orders! Or are you going to mutiny?"

Xulin stopped dead. "No," her synthetic voice faded, replaced by a torn, raspy whisper. "No, I am Zeison Sha, I will not lose myself. I am Zeison Sha."

"As your commander..." Jia Ji's voice broke. Kamick could see there were tears streaming down her face. "As...your...commander, I must order...order you to take off your helmet."

"You can't!" Xulin protested, her whisper voice a plea. "You can't do this to me!"

Ji stood straight, her dress cloaking her in the banners of nobility, an armor of ice. Kamick's mouth hung open as he watched, stunned.

"I must," Ji's hesitation vanished. "I have no other choice. Remove your helmet Xulin."

Xulin waited, stone still.

Ji simply stared down the Ubese woman.

Kamick counted the seconds, getting up to a minute and a half.

Xulin's head lowered. "Only because I can't face what I would be otherwise," she hissed so softly Kamick did not think anyone else heard.

Slow and deliberate the Zeison Sha reached up. First she detached a pair of clips, and then a vacuum sealed plastoid ring. Only then did she pull the helmet backwards and up. Two clear tubes dangled from it as she did, connecting to a transparent sliver over the mouth and nose.

Xulin turned about, not looking only at Xerweg, unwilling to let only the Hutt see. She had a narrow face, with large brilliant emerald eyes. She had no hair, but a pair of red streak tattoos ran down from her eyes to the back of her jawbones. Oddly pretty, Kamick thought, it seems almost a shame to hide it.

When she was done, the helmet went back down, and Xulin collapsed to the floor, whimpering.

"Delightful," Xerweg's voice boomed. "Such a treat, really, a rare pleasure." He waved at Ji. "Fair is fair I suppose. Zygerrians playing with Desga, yes. Did you know there are Desga ruins on Kratovas? In the polar caps they say. It seems some Zygerrians are excavating a few, and of course, they have slaves to do the work. Not a typical project for their kind, I'm sure someone else must have put them up to it."

"The polar caps of Kratovas then," Ji nodded, and bowed to the Hutt, bending to the waist. "I thank you for this your excellency. May we take our leave?"

Etch pulled Xulin to her feet, the droid carefully supporting the Zeison Sha with surprising dignity. Kamick found Drado had made his way back, though the Kyuzo had many bruises.

"You may go young lady," Xerweg grinned. "It has been a pleasure, I must say."

Ji turned and motioned for the others to start walking.

Not sure what else to do, Kamic did so, trying to put the Hutt out of his mind.

This effort was suddenly interrupted.

The deputy heard a scuff of carpet, Jia Ji had stopped suddenly.

Speaking in a voice from a throat twice her own age, and filled with a fury deep as the ocean but utterly controlled she addressed their host. "Xerweg the Hutt," the words sent shivers cascading through Kamick's tissues. "From this day forward we are enemies to the death."

There was no retort as the security guards ushered them hastily out.

**Chapter Notes**

Indoumodo is the homeworld of the kouhouns (the centipede-things Zam Wessel used to try and assassinate Padme in attack of the clones). The Essential Atlas places it within the Kalat Arm. It is not the Kyuzo homeworld.

The image on Xerweg's door is of Hutts battling the forces of Xim the Despot.

This chapter turns heavily on a point of species psychology, one that I have not made up. Ubese have a very deep-seated prohibition against showing their faces (or in fact anything under their environment suits) to outsiders that has been referenced in multiple sources.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Other Struggles**

**Skip 2, Smuggler's Run**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Ji managed to make it all the way back to the _Nomad Sentry_ without her control slipping away completely. Once in the docking bay she ran for the ship and charged inside, pulling the boarding ramp up behind her. Kamick ran up to the entrance and put his ear to the metal. He was sure he heard sobbing from inside. The hatch was locked, and though he pounded on the door briefly there was response. She hasn't told me the code yet, he thought bitterly. Damn.

He turned around to see Drado there. The Kyuzo warrior's face revealed deep sadness even to human eyes. "Do you know the entry code?" Kamick asked suddenly. He must, she would trust him with it.

"Yes," the warrior replied in bitter Huttese. "But if she wishes to be alone, I will not intrude."

Stupid warrior codes! Kamick threw up his hands. Crying by herself was the last thing Ji needed right now. She needed help, and it was impossible to give. He slammed his fist against the metal one last time.

That one hurt, Kamick managed a wan smile. Okay, prioritize, the old habits of outback life took over again. Ji's stuck inside, there's nothing I can do for her. Maybe they'll be a chance to talk to her later. For now, she's not the only one suffering.

He went looking for Xulin.

The Zeison Sha lay slumped up against a pile of empty packaging crates. Etch was with her, but all was silent between the pair. I hope she's all right, Kamick thought with sudden fright. Sheathed in her body suit, when she failed to move he wasn't even able to confirm Xulin was still alive. "Uh," he struggled for something to say. "Are you going to be okay?" it was a terrible, stupid beginning, and he stumbled for a recovery. "I mean, there's not any permanent consequences to exposure are there?"

"Physically Mistress Xulin requires only the breath mask," Etch answered for the Zeison Sha. "The full helmet and mask augment her voice and provide additional sensory data and protection."

"Well, that's a-" he stopped, this isn't going to help. "Never mind," he muscled in on the droid, looming directly over Xulin's small frame. "Xulin, say something, anything, you look like a corpse."

"If Mistress Xulin has nothing to say to you then you should be gone," Etch interjected, starting to push back. The droid's blue visor flashed.

"No, Etch," Xulin's voice had returned to its normal synthesized obscurity. "Thank you, but let him stay. He is not to blame."

"Good to hear you speak," Kamick felt a lot better just hearing something from the Ubese. It made everything a little less desperate.

"Do you despise me policeman?" Xulin asked suddenly.

"What?" Kamick jolted back a step. "Why would I do that?"

"I am weak," the Zeison Sha was merciless upon herself. "I allowed Xerweg to bait me, I was ready to throw my way over the precipice of darkness, and merely to show my face I lose everything." Xulin put her head in her hands. "I could not even do it myself, I let that woman compel me."

"Mistress," Etch was clearly distressed, leaving the identifier off his address. "It is not shaming to be tricked by a Hutt. He has had hundreds of year to practice it."

"Etch's right," Kamick echoed. "He trapped us, it happens, you can't guess them all." His mind flashed through the discovery of a certain Doomtreader. "Besides, in the end you won."

"How can you say that?" Xulin demanded.

"You didn't attack him," Kamick told her. She looked up at him, the blankness of the mask accusing. "Okay, so you had some help on that one, but you could have refused to listen to Ji, you could have smashed any of the three of us to pulp, but you didn't, and you know that's what he wanted."

"I doubt Xerweg wanted me to kill him," Xulin managed a bit of weak sarcasm.

"And I don't think, Zeison Sha powers or not, you had any chance to break through his security measures in a blind rage," Kamick retorted. That was what you did when interrogating a dangerous subject, you made it look like you were vulnerable, but they never had any chance. "Right Etch?" She'll believe the droid before me, she trusts him.

"Almost certainly," the duelist elite nodded. "I suspect his repsulsorsled could have carried him through a hidden slot in the floor or ceiling in less than a tenth of a second."

"Perhaps," Xulin admitted, and the deputy had to consider this progress. "But it should never have got so far. I am a poor excuse for a Zeison Sha. Every hand is needed against the Empire, and I would have forced my fellows to use theirs to hunt me down."

Kamick didn't entirely understand. It was something involving the Force, he could catch that much. There was some struggle inside her, he gathered. Killing Xerweg would have meant damnation. "Well it didn't come to that," he reiterated. "And if a few bruises is all the price I have to bear for that, then I'll do it gladly." Wish she hadn't hit me so hard in the ribs though. He wondered if they might be fractured.

"And why?" the Ubese woman demanded.

"Hey, it's a big nasty world out there," the deputy answered half-jokingly. "When you dare to be the law, you know you've got to have your buddy's back."

"Buddies, ha," the aborted laugh did not translate well through the mask. "Humans are so strange."

"I'm pretty sure that goes both ways," he countered, not really offended.

"You do think I value my mask too highly," she turned away from him.

"Hey!" Kamick protested. "That's not it! I don't understand why your mask matters. I thought your face looked nice, really!" He blurted, and immediately wished he had the words back.

To his surprise, Xulin laughed again. Rut that mask, he cursed. I can't tell if that's good or bad.

"Humans are strange," she repeated, still laughing. The deputy figured that couldn't be all bitterness. "You would never understand why we cover our faces, it is pointless to try and explain it. For your kind maybe, it does not matter so much what you have seen."

"What about Drado?" Kamick thought it a positive pattern and tried to encourage more.

"That warrior has great honor, he closed his eyes and saw nothing, curiosity does not pull him as it does humans," Xulin spoke darkly. "But I suppose it would matter little even if he did. What cares a Kyuzo?" Xulin put her head down again. "You are trying to be kind, and I am not ungrateful, but your efforts are in vain. Xerweg understands us, and he has taken my mask from me. That is all that matters."

Her speech made Kamick desire nothing more than to blast his way into the audience chamber and rip the Hutt's stinking tongue out of his head, but he knew it was impossible. Instead he did the best he could. "Well, uh, if there is anything I can do, don't hesitate."

"There is one thing," she paused. "No, there are two, but the second must wait."

"And those are?" the deputy found the mysterious response rather worrisome.

"First, convince Jia Ji it is not her fault," Xulin told him. "Etch is correct, none of us can match a Hutt in a straight battle of wit and words. She saved us all, but she will not believe that. Tell her I owe her my life, and one day I shall make good on the debt."

"Why don't you tell her yourself?"

"She won't look at me for years yet," Xulin shook her covered head.

"Oh," Kamick suspected the Zeison Sha was correct there. "I will do that, as soon as I can. What is the second thing?"

"You must become Zeison Sha," she ordered. "If we are to stand by our 'buddies' as you said, there must be as many as can be found. Do not waste the gift you have been given."

"But I'll need a teacher!" Kamick countered. "Unless you can..."

"I cannot," the Ubese refused flatly. "I will need to be among my own people now. Besides, I have but two years on you." Kamick drew in a breath, he had not realized she was so young, she seemed so capable. Another illusion of the mask. "I am not yet ready to be a teacher. Perhaps you can find one on your journey." she turned to the duelist. "Where must they go Etch? I did not hear."

"Kratovas," Etch answered without recrimination. "One jump down the Toxil Route from Yanibar."

"Ah," Xulin's head shifted in recognition. "Kratovas, I remember. There are Zeison Sha there. Seek out Irina, she should be able to help you."

"Irina?" the deputy didn't think he'd be able to find someone with so little to work with.

"A Maskri woman, she has trained many Zeison Sha, and knows the planet well," Xulin slowly struggled to her feet, turning to Kamick. "I will prepare a message, both for you and for Ji, Irina should be able to contact the local Discblade Alliance cells."

"That'd be great," Kamick tried to come up with something more, but sputtered.

"It is no more than my duty," the response revealed little.

"So you'll be okay then?" he asked again, still very worried.

"I shall survive," it was less than he hoped for, but he supposed coming from an Ubese it was all he would get. "The sting will fade eventually." She raised her head and looked straight at his face. "I thank you Kamick Travan, for speaking to me, you did not have to, and it has let me see more clearly."

"My friends call me 'Kam,'" he held out a hand.

"So they do," Xulin took his hand with her own. It was small, and covered in the sheathing of the environment suit, but he felt a gentle warmth even so. She'll be all right, he thought. Not today, but someday. "Thank you Kam," Xulin added. "We'll speak again before you leave, but now the daughter of the Jia family needs help, and among those here there is no one else."

"How can I get in?" Kamick griped. "Drado won't give me the codes!"

"He won't stop you either," Etch chipped in to the deputy's amazement. "And it's only a Phoenix-Hawk."

"Good point." He gave the droid a wave of thanks as he ran back to the _Nomad Sentry_.

Being confined and spartan on the inside, a Phoenix-Hawk Light Pinnace has no private rooms, so the deputy found Ji lying on her bunk in the common quarters, staring at the wall. His boots echoed on the deck as he entered, and she turned to face him.

Ji's hair had come loose, lying ragged about her. Her eyes were red, and face worn down, but even this could not erase the natural grace of her bearing completely. She looked up at Kamick in shock. "How did you get in?" she whispered, accusing. "Did Drado give you the codes?"

"Not a chance," Kamick shook his head, absolving the Kyuzo. Then he smiled and shrugged. "I hot-wired the door."

"Hardly the action of a policeman," Ji noted weakly.

"Training to break through security is normal," the deputy defended. "Sometimes you have to break in to rescue the trapped victim."

"Is that what this is then?" Ji's eyes trailed upwards to the empty ceiling. "Have I trapped myself here, trying to escape the punishment I deserve?"

Does she think Xulin's going to hurt her? Kamick wondered fearfully. He supposed you could think that, but it seemed wrong. "Punishment? No one's going to punish you!" He insisted.

"Is that so?" Ji's voice wavered. "I ordered the torture of one under my own command..."

"It's not your fault," Kamick, feeling overwhelmed, fell back onto Xulin's message. "Nobody beats a Hutt at that game. Xulin blames herself not you, she saves you saved her life."

He had hoped to offer succor, but Ji turned away and buried her face in her hands at these words.

"What? What? I don't get it, what's the problem," he demanded.

"No one can beat a Hutt," Ji whimpered. "Not an absolute truth, but close enough. I could not beat Xerweg, can not even stand in the same arena. The meeting should never have happened, I knew better, but I thought it would work." Her voice faded even further, muffled by her hands and the bedding. Despite these obstacles, Kamick knew exactly what she said next, not so much heard as felt. "I thought I could do what my mother could."

Time froze, and suddenly Kamick understood exactly. Whether it was training in measuring subjects, luck, or the Force he couldn't say, but he knew. To me she has such skills, indeed he'd yet to find anything she was completely inept at, but to her it is not enough, not anywhere near enough. She pushes herself harder to meet an impossible standard.

"It doesn't matter what your mother could have done," the deputy spoke sternly, using the officer's voice of demand, pulling Ji's focus back to him. "What matters is what you did, and you saved all our lives."

"Only by ruining one," she returned, but Kamick was hopeful, she was arguing with him now, not with herself.

"Better than everyone being dead," he was blunt. I can't play games with her, fence with words, but I can tell the truth. "And we learned what we needed didn't we?"

"It should not have been necessary," Ji recriminated, refusing to look at him. "There had to be another way."

"Maybe there was, maybe there wasn't," Kamick answered, standing firm. "You can think what you want, but it doesn't matter."

"How does it not matter?" the noblewoman screamed, rising from the bed to her full height. "I forced Xulin to do it! It was my order!"

"And that's the price of command!" he shouted back. There we go. "I couldn't give that order! Drado couldn't give that order! You gave it. We're still here. Now move on with the mission!"

Jia Ji went stone still. She said nothing, looked at nothing, and Kamick could do nothing but pray he'd taken the right approach. He'd done only what he'd seen instructors do before, it was all he knew. Could it reach this willowy noblewoman?

"The mission," she whispered, slowly, teasing the words out one sound at a time. "There is critical intelligence, yes." She was was not speaking to him, but Kamick listened anyway. "I cannot neglect my duty, useless though everything else may be; I cannot fail in that."

"Xulin said we should meet a Zeison Sha named Irina on Kratovas," the deputy tossed out, hoping to keep her mind moving. "She'll prepare a message."

"I see," Ji's eyes remained unfocused. "Then I can add one to it, and you can take it there."

"What?" Kamick's mouth dropped open.

"I am unworthy of command of this effort," she explained, voice returning to its normal level tones. "This Irina can find you a local commander on Kratovas, someone suitable. I should return to my unit, to a task more suited to my meager talents. You can take the ship," she jumped ahead of an objection he planned to offer. "I will find other means."

"Rut that!" It was a completely gut reaction, but a cop trusts his gut first and foremost. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

"I can order you to," Ji said soft and cruel.

"Go ahead and try," he put his hands on his hips.

"You swore to obey my orders," she accused.

"In battle, not for anything else," he smirked right back at her incredulous look. "This is your mission, the rest of us are along for the ride, abandon it now and it'll fail."

"If I stay it will fail," she urged. "I am insufficient to the need."

"Believe what you want," he shrugged, Kamick doubted he could convince her now, maybe ever, but he didn't need to, her devotion to duty predominated. It was the same trick Ji had used on Xulin only hours before, and he felt sick for using it, but if he could pull her up by such a barb, so be it. "I don't believe it, and I can tell you neither do Drado, Xulin, or Etch, and none of us have the time to waste convincing someone we don't know this is important. You have to stay."

"You will come to regret this, I am certain of it," she told him, but did not object.

"That's my problem. Besides," he joked. "I'm already dead remember, so who cares."

This squeezed the barest ghost of a smile from her tired face. "I cannot contest your logic, try as I might," Ji acknowledged. "Very well, if that is what you demand, I shall give my best, though it be too little." Her body language changed with these words, piece by piece pulling together before into the solid, ready, and always capable Jia Ji of before. It was a startling transformation. Stang, I wish I had those reserves, Kamick admitted.

"So, do we head out to Kratovas?" he asked. It seemed the logical next move.

"Not yet," Ji determined. "We have two tasks first. We must take Xulin and her companion back to Skip 1, and we shall need to find another member for this team."

"Huh?" the deputy understood the first part, but not the second. "Why do we need someone else?"

"Desga," Ji said, leaving him puzzled.

"Um," he hated to admit to ignorance, but it was starting to become a problem. "I don't really know what that means."

Carefully Ji pressed past him, walking over to the refresher station. She explained as she washed her face and straightened her disheveled hair. "It is shorthand, for the Desga Species Block. They were named by Mellor Desga, a particularly arrogant core world sentientologist," Kamick immediately agreed with this sentiment. Name a group of species after yourself? "He made the discovery close to a century past, that the many near-human species of the Kalat Arm are descended from a single lost colony twenty millenniums old. They lost hyperspace technology after arriving at some still unknown world, but sent out many sleeper ships, seeding planets. In the time since all those colonies diverged, to become the dozens of species we now know."

"Oh, right," Ji's words brought back memories of early school years. Kamick had indeed heard this story before, but had long forgotten it as unimportant. Twenty-thousand years ago, who cares? The Empire thinks differently I guess.

"That is the basics," Ji went on, placing the silver band in her bun once more. "I know the names and traits of the more common Desga species, and something of their worlds. Many are under siege by the Empire even now, but there my knowledge ends." Clearly she considered this a weakness, but Kamick could think of nothing to say. "If the Empire is in ruins traceable to the Desga on Kratovas, and if the nature of the related species fits into their plans, then we must acquire expert assistance."

"Will that be doable?" the deputy hadn't the first idea of how to go about it.

"On Smuggler's Run," Ji smiled faintly. "There is nothing that cannot be found for the right price." She paused. "Let us go, we have wasted enough time in this horrid place."

"Right," he turned to go get the others, sparing only a second to look back. How long will she hold up? He wondered. The immediate wound had been bandaged, but Ji's troubles obviously went far deeper. He feared their re-emergence. Can't do anything about it now though. I should probably worry more about what Drado's going to do to me when I get out the door.

Chuckling slightly under his breath, the deputy braced his body as he opened the ramp.

**Chapter Notes**

1. Naming things after yourself is a major faux pas in modern science, but in the late 19th and early 20th centuries was common in the 'wild west' days of early taxonomy. The name of the Desga species block is intended to reflex Core world prejudices regarding Wild Space.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Alternating Options**

**Skip 1, Smuggler's Run**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

The markets of Skip 1 expanded in all directions around the group as they walked. Ji was grateful for the bustle. It took her focus off of memory of recent moments. I am all right, she had convinced herself, and was going on for now. Kamick had been correct, she could not be governed by past failures. There was nothing to gain from further reflection now. The choice had been made for her, now she could only continue.

Xulin had already left them, leaving behind a small holodisk with instructions on finding Irina and a message for the Kratovas Zeison Sha when they encountered her. Ji had let the deputy handle the goodbyes. She knew she was not ready to face the Ubese, did not think she would ever be able to look on the face of what she had done. I will not come back here if I can avoid it, she resolved, though doubted it would be possible. Smuggler's Run held a central role in the Kalat Arm, the gateway to the rest of the galaxy, and the hub of the fringe.

Drado paused in leading them to let a group of droids pushing heavily-laden repulsor platforms cross in front of them, and Ji caught Kamick looking at a nearby stall. Curious, her eyes followed his gaze. The rodian vendor was selling personal protection equipment, he had a variety of combat vests, boots, helmets, and so forth hanging from a chaotic display. Yet the item catching the deputy's eye was unusual. A rectangular plastoid block with a cut out panel on one side and a handle two-thirds of the way up. A shield, Ji realized, though it had been some time since she had seen one. They were not common devices in the military service, for carrying one prevented a soldier from using a rifle or other full-sized weapon. Ah, her mind filled in the gap. Policemen carry pistols and other small arms, so perhaps...

"You are interested?" She asked as she came up beside the deputy.

"I lost mine when they nabbed me," Kamick muttered idly. "I asked your guys about it afterward, but they must have junked it." He sounded slightly wistful.

Ji turned to vendor. "How much for this shield?"

"Eight-hundred credits," the Rodian replied.

"A dubious figure," Ji retorted. "This device has been thoroughly scrubbed out. I suspect it was stolen from a law enforcement officer, and the condition is therefore questionable. Three-hundred."

"My lady," the rodian protested. "We must all make a living, and these are dangerous times, the market for weapons is too good to consider such an offer. I must get at least six hundred."

Kamick watched this exchange in wide-eyed puzzlement, forcing Ji to stifle a grin. "A living perhaps, but I see no reason to subsidize your boozing or your spice habit," she cut into the merchant. "However, given the market I could go to four-fifty."

"Five-fifty."

"Five hundred."

"Done," the rodian held out a long fingered hand. Ji took it and shook quickly. She would have liked to go lower, but the merchant was right. Fighting with the Empire drove up the price of everything. The noblewoman fished out a series of one hundred credit chips and passed them over.

"Here," she grabbed the surprisingly heavily plastoid piece and passed it to Kamick.

"But, but-" the deputy protested. "I cannot ask you to spend mission funds like that."

"I did not," Ji noted warmly, feeling much better for some reason. "This is a personal gift, from me alone."

"Oh," he stammered. "Well, thanks, I mean thanks a lot."

"I owe you much," Ji managed to admit evenly, though it was not easy to control her voice. "And I think a functional gift is best."

Kamick smiled weakly, seemingly embarrassed. Ji guessed he thought it overly much, he was of humble origins, but she would not neglect his feelings for that reason alone.

Drado spoke up, noting the path was now clear.

"Right, let's keep moving," Ji agreed. They had much to do.

Ji had identified several candidates for their potential expert searching Smuggler's Run's anarchic datanet. The first, an old Twi'Lek, had proven to be a swindler wildly over-stating his knowledge. Second had been a Khil who did indeed know much about the Desga species, but only in regard to using pharmaceuticals upon them, a practice not fitting their needs. Perhaps the third time is the charm.

The office they sought was a tiny alcove at the end of a long corridor of small businesses mostly catering to the requirements of the many refugees regularly passing through Smuggler's Run, seeking a place in the Kalat Arm away from the troubles of the rest of the galaxy under the cruelty of the Empire. It was a reminder to Ji of the importance of their struggle. We must drive the Imperials out to make those dreams of safety and a new life real again.

The small sign over the office read: Run Biotics Consulting. Several of the lights used to make it glow had burned out. Ji did not take this as a good sign.

She sent Drado in first.

There was a single large desk, topped with a terminal and a massive number of datacards and flimsy sheets in a dense, but clearly very organized, filing system. The office had a single occupant, seated behind the desk and tapping away at the terminal. This person, their hoped-for expert, looked up when the three entered.

This was not a living, flesh-and blood being, but a droid. It had a humanoid chassis, painted a reddish-orange on the solid plating, with shiny black wiring showing in many places. It was similar in many ways to a 3PO unit, but Ji was familiar with those and recognized the differences. The head was flatter, and squared. The plating ended in a flat line only a few inches below the eyes, and lacked the false nose and mouth common in protocol units.

It rose as it caught sight of Drado. "A Kyuzo!" the droid had a high, quick-chattering voice, set for dispensing rapid-fire data. "How surprising, I haven't seen one in a long time. So uncommon. You are from Indomoudo I expect, I have records of a small community there." His voice was not deliberately mechanical, as Xulin's had been, instead being programmed to render the speech patterns of a very earnest young human.

Drado stared daggers at the droid, but the orange-plated automaton was seemingly immune to intimidation. "But I'm getting sidetracked from potential customers," the droid noted, and focused on Ji and Kamick. "Do come in, please, um...there are chairs against the wall if you need them. I used to keep them out, but some of my regular clients believe in conducting all business while standing so I put them over there."

"That will not be necessary," Ji had no desire to sit in an uncomfortable folding chair, or be subjected to this droid's standard pitch. "I was hoping to speak with the proprietor, will he be in sometime today?" This droid was obviously intelligent, and Ji guessed it was some kind of analytical unit, though she did not know the precise model, but she suspected it would quickly waste her time.

"Um...about that," the droid answered. "I get this a lot, but it's still awkward. Ma'am, I am the proprietor, I own this business."

"But you're a droid!" Kamick spoke from Ji's left, crudely but effectively voicing her own thoughts.

"Your point being?" the droid replied irritably. "I can run a business just as well as anyone else."

"I suspect you can," Ji said kindly, trying to avoid sounding condescending, for the droid's presence in front of them served as evidence. "But one wonders how you avoid being grabbed off the street and sold, or junked for parts."

"I had the restraining bolt hookups removed," the owner explained. "As for the other bit, well," He pushed back his chair and stood up, pulling something from under the desk. "Don't get any funny ideas."

Ji found she was staring into the business end of a G71 Grenade Launcher. "Thank you, that is quite explanatory," she noted with a bit of a wry grin. "So then this is your establishment master..."

"Cyc," the droid replied. "A9G Data Storage Unit, at your service."

"Why Cyc?" Kamick asked from Ji's side.

"It's short for encyclopedia," Cyc spoke with traces of amusement. "I got called that often enough back when I had owners so I chose to hang onto it. It's short but memorable."

"Cyc then," Ji turned back to business. "I am Jia Ji. Your establishment's data net profile claims to offer a wide xenobiological reference database, and additional consulting services."

"That's right," the droid sat back down and tapped the plating on the side of his head. "It's all here, I can analyze, manage, correlate, study and reference just about anything you want, and my processors are faster, brighter, and more complete than any organic expert's knowledge. Plus, I don't forget important stuff all the time. What do you need ma'am?" His full business pitch was revved up. Ji listened carefully, for evaluating a droid was a new challenge. Truly independent constructs were very rare. "I've done a lot of refugee management lately, but I've experience with medical analysis, settlement development, cross-cultural art appraisal, even archeological work."

"Have you ever been to Kratovas?" Ji questioned, hoping to throw the analytical system off balance.

"One step down from Yanibar on the Toxil Route? No, never been in person," Cyc gave a single back and forth movement of his head. "It's an interesting planet though, competing agricultural and pastoral societies in a mostly tundra environment. Limited development due to the harsh climate and some nasty predators. Dominant human and twi'lek population, with sizable duros and zabrak components as well. Exports hiridiu crystals and an exotic variety of honey. The planet-"

"That's more than enough for the moment," Ji interrupted. She hated to be rude to a business owner in his own establishment, but it was clear independence had not rid Cyc of the common analytic droid trait of presenting everything without a good sense of when to stop. "Tell me, have you ever been involved in a project involving the Desga Species Block?"

"Sure," he reached into his mass of datacards, quickly plucking one free. "A couple of times actually, they're a big deal in interspecies planning operations throughout the Kalat Arm," Cyc placed the datacard in a datapad and slid the file across the desk for Ji to see. "This one was a few years ago, I worked on the Longrun Shipping contact team that conducted resettlement of surviving Spis. It was a tragic business, but I think we did right by them."

Ji heard Kamick draw in a breath at the mention of the Spi, and she couldn't help but frown angrily in tandem. The Empire had conducted one of their worst bombardments on the Spi homeworld, rendering the planet all but uninhabitable. Millions had died in the atrocity.

The Longrun Shipping logo on the file was legitimate to the noblewoman's analysis, and the list of credentials and accomplishments she accessed by running a search on Cyc's designation was impressive.

"There are Desga ruins on Kratovas," Cyc noted while she read. "The sleeper ship landed there within a few centuries of the major ice age onset. Geologic action destroyed most of them, but they say there are intact remnants from the initial colony expansion preserved in the polar ice."

Smart droid, Ji admitted. She looked sternly at the A9G, wondering if it was really a legitimate choice. He is a droid, can I believe he will not betray us to the Empire? Ji had studied to understand the motives of humans and aliens both, but the divide between man and machine was something far greater.

"If you're looking for an expert to accompany you on a mission to those ruins I'm it," Cyc proclaimed. "There's no one else on the Run with a fourth of my skill in the area. I've been studying the Desga for a long time, it's a glorious puzzle, I'll even give you a discount if the project is suitably interesting."

Does his intellect drive him forward? Can the promise of the mystery we seek be enough? Lacking further ideas, Ji decided to simply ask outright. "This is a discrete mission, I worry not for your confidence, but of the loyalty of a droid who is self-owned."

"Fighting the Empire are we?" Cyc quipped.

"How did you?" Kamick accused, and Ji knew hands had gone toward weapons on both men behind her.

"Basic deductive reasoning," Cyc waved a hand, ignoring the anger. "I have a regular set of contacts with Longrun Shipping, so you aren't working for them, and Kratovas is a system lacking in concentrated mineral resources, so ORO's not involved. That leaves the Empire as the remaining name not to be mentioned in casual conversation."

"Your words have not inspired any confidence in me," Ji noted idly, crossing her hands in front of her.

"I've worked with Discblade Alliance before," Cyc offered, casually naming them as resistance. "Helped arrange a distribution pattern for some medical supplies. I'm a private information broker, discretion is an absolutely essential business practice, you can count on that. Besides," Cyc added, half-joking. "The Empire's no friend to free droids, to them a droid without a bolt on is somehow malfunctioning, and they hate species diversity to boot. Human High Culture has got to be the most boring culture in the history of the galaxy."

Ji smiled, so the mind does move him, and the Empire is intellectually bereft. Who would have thought of droids as idealists? It was a lesson to remember for the future. "Then I wish to hire you on a retainer, for say three months? You will travel with us to Kratovas and potentially elsewhere."

"Three months is a long time," Cyc noted. "That's going to be costly, and fighting the Empire's dangerous business, so that's going to cost more. Of course, I need to know what this really about before I agree to anything."

So logical and reasonable, the noblewoman was unused to people like that. She almost felt familiar to the droid already. "We are seeking the answers behind a new trend in slave abductions. The Empire, at least, all signs indicate it to be them, has hired the Coldiron Conglomerate to acquire massive numbers of near-humans, especially Desga species. It is imperative to find out why and put a stop to it."

"Lots of Desga?" Cyc's face was un-expressive, but the droid had revealing body language. He was disturbed. "That could be for research into genetic commonalities."

Ji cursed herself for not seeing it before from Kamick's explanation. "Bioweapons..." she whispered. It made sense. Slaves that would never talk were destined not to the market, but a lab.

"Certainly a possibility," Cyc noted. "And one to stop. I'm not about to let the Empire obliterate the legacy of twenty thousand years of adaptive radiation; not when there is so much left to be learned." One of his hands curled into a fist. "Three thousand credits plus expenses and you've got your expert for the duration." He offered.

"Done," Ji agreed immediately. It was more than fair, and she had no desire to blunt the droid's enthusiasm by bartering. "How soon can you head out?"

"You're in a hurry aren't you?" It was a casual observation. "Resistance people always are. Look, give me twelve hours to straighten up ongoing affairs, secure the office and tell those who need to know I'll be away for an indeterminate period then I'll be ready."

"That is excellent," the noblewoman noted that one plus of hiring a droid was a relative lack of emotion ties to address. "Would you prefer to be paid in cash, or through a funds transfer?"

"Transfer's fine," Cyc input a number onto the datapad. "I've got a secure account with a Christophsis bank that doesn't ask questions."

"I sometimes think everyone on the Run does," Ji noted mildly. "Well then, shall we meet up at 0800 tomorrow morning?" That was slightly more than twelve hours, but she had no real desire to leave earlier. "Our ship is the _Nomad Sentry_."

"The _Nomad Sentry_ at 0800," Cyc acknowledged. "I'll be there."

"I look forward to working with you," she held out her hand. The droid took it in one made of metal, but constructed to match a human's five fingers and delicately articulated. They shook once and the deal was made.

Cyc was as good as his word, and arrived at precisely 0800. The droid carried the grenade launcher slung over his back and a single case of equipment. Ji was waiting when he arrived.

"Ah, adventure," the droid remarked as he appeared. "An activity so altered by the lens of memory that one comes back for more again and again, forgetting how miserable most adventures really are."

"Perhaps you are simply a masochist," Ji suggested, as deadpan as she could.

"I must be," Cyc noted dryly. "I spend so much time around organics who seem to enjoy hunger, exhaustion, and muscle pain. It's infectious, like some kind of disease."

Kamick, emerging from the Nomad Sentry, laughed as he heard this. "We're ready for launch," he updated Ji.

"Ready?" she asked the droid one final time, knowing they were both committed, and still unsure she had made the right choice.

"Certainly," Cyc quipped. "Let's get started. Anyone want to bet on who the Empire shoots at first?"

"I'll take that bet," Ji smiled as she heard Kamick step up to the droid's bait. "Only one of us is painted like a bright orange target."

"Says the one who walks around with a cop gait that screams: I'm the law, bring it on!" the droid shot back.

"Save it for the enemy," Ji admonished half-heartedly, though the grim humor was lightening. "Let's get moving."

Departure from Smuggler's Run was uneventful. If the _Ironstar _lingered somewhere it was undetected and made no moves. Ji careful plotted the coordinates for hyperspace.

"How long is this going to take?" Kamick asked from back in the cockpit.

"About two days," Ji answered.

"That long?" the deputy sounded surprised. "I thought it was a straight shot down the Toxil Route? Aren't we at one end?"

"It's a straight shot," Cyc called from back in engineering, a space the droid had immediately claimed. "But the Toxil Route's anything but straight."

"Oh," Kamick muttered. He looked around the ship, eyes lingering on the ceiling as Ji watched. "It's going to be a long two days."

Ji stifled a giggle in spite of herself. Sometimes she loved being short. "Well, there is some benefit to this," She added seriously. "We are headed to an occupied world for the first time."

"Occupied?" Kamick's eyes narrow from his seat next to her.

Drado, standing behind the pair, grunted something short and angry.

"Like many worlds in this region," Ji explained briefly. "The Empire has claimed dominion. Imperial Customs rides over the spaceport authority, and they demand a return in taxes, conscripts, and anything else they believe necessary. The area beyond Rakjas spaceport," Ji had spent much of the previous evening reading up on their destination. "Is under far more tenuous control, but the Empire has forward bases and sends out patrols in an attempt to enforce their orders. The Discblade Alliance is active among the herders and settlers, and there is considerable fighting. There have even been a few naval skirmishes involving Customs Corvettes or the garrison fighters."

"Sounds dangerous," Kamick noted. "We aren't exactly an army."

"I hope to avoid fighting, at least until we learn what we must know," Ji said carefully. "It may be that we shall need to ally with the local DA cells in order to defeat whatever experiments the Empire intends, but it is too soon to determine this."

"Um," the deputy looked suddenly thoughtful. "The Empire's not going to arrest us as we land, are they, I mean, we are Discblade Alliance." Ji could tell he had not yet truly accepted his membership in the resistance, but it was a good point, one she had intended to address.

"This vessel is registered in my family's name," the noblewoman told the others. "There is suspicion of resistance sympathy, but nothing is proven. This gives us cover as legitimate business."

Ji heard Cyc shuffled up from engineering as she said this. "What kind of cover? Do I get a syntheflesh mask?" he asked.

Drado gave the droid a brutal glare at this. "No," Ji waved him off. "We shall do something much more mundane. Kratovas has many areas open for expanded settlement, and we shall pretend to be on a business deal to purchase land and arrange for development by refugees. My family has conducted such ventures in the past." It hurt to have to ride on those connections, it truly did, but the story was much more believable. She would do it to protect the others.

"So you're the business woman, what about us?" Kamick asked.

"You are the pilot," she told the deputy. He looked the part, even though he had admitted to lacking anything beyond basic airspeeder training. "Drado is my bodyguard." This commenced a chorus of nods, for the Kyuzo wouldn't have to change anything to play the part perfectly. "Cyc I must ask you to pretend to be my property, serving as accounts manager."

"It's hardly demeaning to pretend to serve one's designed purpose," Cyc accepted easily.

"Hopefully we shall only need to playact for a few minutes," Ji prayed it was nothing more. "Long enough to fool customs and nothing more. Kamick," she focused her view on the deputy. "You are the greatest risk, since if anyone runs a gene scan you will come up as deceased, which would be very difficult to explain."

Drado muttered a quick suggestion.

"Of course," she nodded to the warrior. "Unless we have the tremendous ill luck to draw someone I think will not accept, I fully intend to bribe our way through."

Kamick stiffened at the remark, taking offense on the part of lawmen as a whole. "Is that really likely?"

"Imperial Customs is already a low-prestige service," Cyc spared Ji from having to explain. "Couple that with the Imperial tendency to avoid Wild Space postings like the Candorian Plague, and personnel quality is really quite shameful. As to the local port authority, many are more competent, but most have resistance sympathies or have relatives who rely on smugglers for key imports, so they let a great deal through."

"Oh," this quieted the deputy.

"Regardless," Ji ordered. "Everyone should spend the next two days practicing their roles. I want no mistakes."

"I suppose that means I won't be fleecing you all in sabaac then," Cyc sighed morosely. "There goes my profit margin."

Kamick and Drado laughed, but Ji found herself distracted by a chirp from the main console. "We're clear of the asteroid field's gravity well. Standby for lightspeed."

She pulled back on the hyperdrive lever.

**Chapter Notes**

A9G Data Storage Units are a canonical droid class, noted for their ability to manage small data networks. Cyc is a true independent droid (like IG88), having experienced a programming breaking event, and not just a highly developed unit not receiving consistent memory wipes (such as C-3PO).

Minor things such as Christophsis, Candorian Plague, and the Imperial Customs service, mentioned by Cyc are all canonical. The Spi, a desga species, and the bombardment of their homeworld, are my inventions, but bombardment is a common tactic in the Kalat Arm, as there's no Senate ramifications to such actions.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – At the Edge**

**_Arcane Lash_, Geosynchronous Orbit**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

"Engineering estimates the maintenance to the portside turbolaser will be complete at 1900 standard captain," the lieutenant pointed out sections on the diagnostic. "With that complete we will have 100% combat capacity again."

"About time," Temel, noted. It had taken far too long, and he hated having his ship unready to give her best, regardless of the attack probability projections. "Once the engineers are finished, I want all quadrant one personnel to battle stations. At 2000 we'll run a full fire-suppression drill."

"Yes captain," the lieutenant displayed no enthusiasm, drills meant extra work, and like seemingly everyone else on the ship, work was a low priority action.

If you all weren't such laggards I wouldn't have to do so many drills, Temel thought bitterly. That would strain this poor old lady less, but I won't see her fall apart on my watch.

"Captain," the communications and sensors ensign motioned from the other side of the bridge, a surprisingly spacious area in a legacy of Old Republic design. "I have a live subspace call for you. It's eyes only."

Temel caught the slight eye-roll accompanying the last notice. In their isolated position secrecy had been pushed well past what the captain considered reasonable. Everything was eyes only these days. "I'll take it in my cabin." He stood up from the command chair.

The captain's cabin was just off the bridge tower, another Old Republic design trait, so Temel didn't have far to walk. It was not a very spacious cabin, however. Damn clone-oriented designs. He thought every time. Like all Peltas, _Arcane Lash_ had been designed expecting a Clone officer to command, and had spartan accommodations as a result. The current occupant would have preferred a more robust cabin in a different section of the ship. He hit the wallscreen and brought up the call, already sensing irritation build. There wasn't a long list of possible callers, and he had no real desire to speak to any of them.

The screen revealed a many-scarred face dotted with horns and with wild red hair trailing in braids. "Captain Balten," Temel greeted the slaver, doing his best to prevent a disdainful lip curl. Scum, he thought.

"Captain Ruskar," the slaver acknowledged with nowhere near the respect due an Imperial of Temel's rank. "I have a problem."

You are a problem, Temel thought uncharitably. One best disposed of via a garbage masher. It wasn't that Balten was an alien, he'd served alongside plenty of aliens during the Clone Wars, they were usually decent enough. No, the captain disliked the Zygerrian purely for his arrogant airs and despicable practices. No respect, not even in consideration of what we're paying him. "And what is that? You'd better not be wasting my time," Temel had little doubt that was what was ultimately going to happen, but he'd take every opportunity to put the slaver in his place.

"I've lost a ship!" Balten protested, hissing in old anger. "And over two hundred slaves!"

Well, that's a blow to the schedule, Temel admitted, but his concern barely stirred. Let them lose the slaves, that's not my problem. "One of your captains make a hyperspace error?" It was half-mocking, half-legitimate, for in the uncharted fringes of space it was by far the most common reason for a vessel to vanish.

"No! My men were attacked by the Discblade Alliance!" Balten did not deal well with being treated as unimportant, he was hissing and spitting with rage.

Discblade Alliance? Temel's mind shifted. This could actually be serious. "When and where?"

"Five days ago, on Ablerin," Balten's voice was well above normal volume, and Temel reached over and dialed down the sound on transmission.

Ablerin? He thought. That's a pirate nest, a pustule in space. It lessened the captain's concern instantly to hear that. "Infighting between you and the resistance is not a situation requiring my concern."

"Ha, you'd think that wouldn't you?" Balten cursed. "They didn't stop there, some of their fighters went to Smuggler's Run. I tried to get them there, but they got to Skip 2."

"How is it relevant which asteroids they visited in that place?" Temel wasn't even sure of the proper coordinates of Smuggler's Run, the shadowport was hidden in a maze of asteroids and the Empire had no presence there. Another disease masquerading as a world.

"They might have met with Xerweg, you ru-" Balten found enough control to avoid swearing into Temel's face, recognizing the consequences of such an act could well be grave. The Imperial actually gave the slaver some points for it.

"I thought your security was flawless?" the captain's criticism was brutal.

"I've taken every precaution!" Balten protested. "But if anyone could find out it's Xerweg."

Fair enough, Temel acknowledged. If half the stories about the Hutt were true, he had tendrils in everything important in the whole region. "So find them and kill them, you can do that can't you?" He replied disdainfully.

"I will," Balten hissed in promise. "But who knows who they'll tell in the meantime."

"And what exactly do you want me to do about it?" Temel wondered. The Empire couldn't silence subspace, nice as it would be.

"I want to change up," the slaver demanded. "New transfer points, new protocols, new everything. This has gone on too long."

Amazingly enough, the Zygerrian had a real idea. Temel found he agreed on all counts. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to make that decision on his own. Stang, this is such idiocy! "I will take it under consideration," he noted icily. "In the meantime, do the Empire a favor, hold to your end of the contract, and kill whomever these people are."

"Maybe you could lend a hand," the slaver sneered. "If any of your soldiers should happen across them, don't you think?"

"By all means, forward whatever data you have," Temel doubted the Zygerrian had anything useful. Even tracking them to Smuggler's Run was probably just getting lucky. The Kalat Arm was chaos, tracking any small group out here was downright impossible even for the best bounty hunters. This land needs the Empire's order desperately, however flawed that order may be.

"Here," Balten appended a file. "And your next batch is going to be a bit late, but no discounts."

"End transmission," Temel knew the Zygerrian had run out of useful things to say.

"Stang!" He slammed his fist into the wall when the screen went blank, then pulled it back wincing. "Why did something like this have to happen?" He snapped bitterly at the empty room. The current assignment was all but unbearable as it was, and now there was trouble with it. Why can't I be on a different frigate? He didn't dream of fighting rebels or resistance anymore, no, Temel had made his peace with any desire for glory. A quiet garrison somewhere, maybe in the Inner Rim, and no stomach-churning horrors, is that so much to ask?

Seeking to delay the Captain pulled up the data Balten had forwarded. Hmm...a quick survey relayed little of use. They were flying a Phoenix-Hawk Light Pinnace, one of the Zygerrian's informants had tracked them back from a slave exchange gone bad to the ship. That was really all the slavers had. A man, a woman, an unknown alien, a droid, and an Ubese, great. Relatively common aliens piloting one of the most common privately owned ships in the region. He wrote up a quick alert to be passed on to the regional customs headquarters to be on the lookout for resistance on board Phoenix-Hawks, especially in conjunction with an Ubese, but doubted it would do any good. If the group was the same, and if they were flying the same ship then maybe a lazy customs idiot could get lucky.

A lot of big ifs, he knew. If those weren't so true, then maybe we'd be controlling this mess of space already. Then again, maybe that's just not meant to be.

Having done all he could, Temel was forced to move to the next stage of the game. It was one he dreaded. Walking out of the cabin slowly he found the nearest turbolift and keyed in the code for the medical labs. "Stang," he grumbled. Why couldn't it have just been another day of drills?

Pelta-class frigates such as _Arcane Lash_ had a modular structure, capable of rapid changes in loadout to all major non-combat functions. The ship had not been reconfigured in some time, however, and was liable to remain a medical frigate to the end of its days. Though Temel felt it was an insult to the term to consider the current assignment medical in any way.

The turbolift opened out into the sterile white lighting of the labs. As always the captain choked down bile at the sight.

Tanks lined the walls, each holding an individual held in thrall, liquids and chemicals pumped into their systems. These beings were often hideously distorted, strange mutations and odd grafts twisted them into freakish mockeries of the persons they'd once been. All slowly dying under constant examination.

Yet the tanks were far from the worst. Technicians in white uniforms walked among the surgical tables in the open spaces, where the true terror resided. The white spaces were stained red, and wires, barbs, and worse sprouted from half-concealed forms. Temel couldn't look, but neither could he tear his eyes away.

It's worse every time, he ground his teeth together to quell the urge to scream at the abomination of it all. Why? Why? Why in the name of the Empire! It was madness, this project, hideous. Is it not enough to have the best ships, the best gear, the best men? Can we not defeat our enemies with blasters and missiles like we did in the Clone Wars? He could not understand the reasoning, the mysterious men half a galaxy away on Imperial Center who would allow this travesty of warfare. Or the man who ran this laboratory.

"Captain!" The voice was tightly controlled and deeply intellectual, but Temel knew it was also filled with disdain. "How unusual of you to grace us with your presence, are not the duties of command keeping you busy?"

The Captain turned to stare into the face of Dr. Livius Entrene. For a long second he was silent, reveling in the imagination of drawing his service blaster and blowing a gaping black mark through that visage. It was not outwardly a particularly notable face, with a basic cut of thinning brown hair and growing wrinkles in a some areas, but no obvious malice. Dr. Entrene was solidly middle aged, but still bursting with energy. He was not physically noteworthy in any aspect. No, Temel recognized. The horror is all inside that skull.

"I have been appraised of a potential problem," the captain kept his language formal and technical. He needed every bit of distance he could keep from this man.

"Something has happened with the Zygerrians, hasn't it?" Entrene noted immediately.

Why is a man like this blessed with genius? Temel couldn't understand it. Was life meant to be so cruel? "Yes, that is correct. One of their vessels was attacked on Ablerin, apparently they lost everything, including over two hundred...samples."

"Those incompetents!" the doctor raged briefly, but his self-control lapsed no further. "Well, I suppose it is to be expected, inefficiency is inevitable when working with aliens. They are simply not properly capable in the same way true people are."

Temel knew better than to challenge the doctor on the dissonance of his views. It constantly shocked him, how a man could be so brilliant and yet hold to such an obviously ridiculous position.

"I suppose we shall have to adjust the work schedule then, in anticipation of this potential shortage," Entrene acknowledged. "That will be complicated, but hopefully we shall not be set back too far."

The man was a master of project management, it was quite likely he'd find some way to stretch his current subjects to make up for the lack. The only ones to suffer would be those under the knife.

The poor wretches, the captain was sympathetic to their plight, and cursed his helplessness. He could override the doctor's actions only in a direct military crisis, otherwise the ship was this frightful experimenter's possession. "There is another potential issue," Temel broached cautiously.

"Out with it then, I'm a busy man," Entrene had little patience for the military, or indeed for anyone.

"Captain Balten believes the Discblade Alliance is investigating his operations," Temel held to his normal pace of explanation. He would bend only so far. "He tracked a small group to Smuggler's Run, where they may have received information from Xerweg the Hutt."

"And?" Dr. Entrene compressed a great deal of scorn into a single word.

"It is possible the Discblade Alliance has realized our involvement," It was difficult to express military realities to a man who lived inside a lab and saw the resources of the navy as only existing to aid him personally. "They may attempt to intervene. Captain Balten believes we should change over all the contact aspects of our arrangement." Cautiously he added. "The Zygerrian is a brute, but I am forced to agree with his assessment."

"Change everything?" Entrene's eyes narrowed. "You mean the hand-off points, the monetary exchange, the supply agreements, everything? It cannot be done!"

"Obviously there would be delays...but-"

"No!" Entrene was adamant. "We are too close, too close. I will not lose months of potential work. We would have to restart everything in progress, and that could ruin everything, set us back years."

"Would you rather the Zeison Sha storm down on us?" Temel tried to find some way to convince the scientist the threat was real. They have the Force you fool! He wanted to scream. Who knows what they can do!

"The Zeison Sha are an anachronism, and they are not our problem," Entrene scoffed. He didn't understand, he hadn't fought in the Clone Wars, hadn't seen what trained warriors could accomplish when they had the Force in their arsenal. Temel had, he wanted to keep light years away from the Zeison Sha. "Besides, we are here, where there are no Zeison Sha, no ridiculous resistance, we are quite safe."

"Captain Balten knows too much," the captain tried a different tack. "And the Zygerrian is loyal only so far as the credits go, perhaps not even that." He hoped to appeal to Entrene's prejudices. "If we could simply relocate the Kratovas portion of the operation, I'm sure all the other experiments could continue, and the risk would be significantly reduced."

"Kratovas is the operation!" Entrene retorted. "The answer is there, the key breakthrough. The evidence is clear, the technology exists. We are so close to finding the essential piece. Once that is complete, then everything falls into place. I will not compromise on Kratovas captain, soon, very, very soon now it will provide us with the final piece we need to make the Empire's armies invincible. The operation there continues, that is final."

How can ruins of an aborted civilization from the dawn of the Republic tell us anything? Temel wondered, but remained silent. Maybe Entrene was right. The doctor was a legitimate master in his field, one of the best in the Empire. He had enough of a pull to requisition an entire frigate, no matter how aged, for his mission. He reported to some mysterious force outside the proper chain of command and had gotten away with treating officers lower than dirt for his whole career. I don't believe he can succeed, the captain admitted. I'm not sure he even should succeed. Does that mean he's right? "I understand," Temel spoke without enthusiasm. "In that case I shall take what steps exist within my authority to increase our security in his position."

He turned to go. As he did he heard Entrene call behind him. "Don't worry so much captain, once I am finished there will be no one to threaten us, not even the Zeison Sha you fear."

Damn you, Temel thought. As he reached the turbolift he thought only. We'll see, doctor, which of is right. Though it may well doom us all either way.

**Chapter Notes**

_Arcane Lash_ is a Pelta-class frigate, the ships are commonly seen in the Clone Wars TV series.

Dr. Entrene is part of the Imperial Department of Military Research, and therefore is outside the usual chain of command.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 – Tundra Surge**

**Rakjas Spaceport, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Is it always this cold on this planet? Kamick wondered as they slipped out of the docking bay. Cyc says its currently summer, but really? He'd known his homeworld was hot and dry, and even the artificial environments of Ablerin and Smuggler's Run had seemed cool, but this place was on a completely different scale. I may have to buy some warmer clothes.

Ji, who had silenced customs by the expedient of a large denomination credit chit, seemed perfectly comfortable. The deputy had asked Cyc, who seemed to know almost everything, a bit about her homeworld, and supposedly Tianjiang was a place of deep canyons and howling winds, so perhaps this was within her range. Drado had been raised in the jungles of Indoumodo, but if the Kyuzo was bothered by the chill he gave no sign.

"Remain watchful," Ji cautioned them as they walked out into the streets of the spaceport. "We have passed through the key point of security, but there will be Imperial troops throughout the city."

No kidding, Kamick thought, looking to the west, where a massive structure towered over much of the city. Rakjas Spaceport was mostly built low, so the fortress, Firebase R-1, built by the Empire, was by far the highest structure in the area.

The deputy had thought they might look out of place, but a quick look at the streets illuminated this mistake. "Stang," he breathed. "So many people." The sheer diversity of races could not match Smuggler's Run, but the numbers were a new experience. While the shadowport had been crowded and compact, there was a limit to how many beings could occupy any given space at one time. Rakjas sprawled, and it's people, whether residents or visitors, were everywhere.

"Local estimates place the population at roughly one point two million residents," Cyc answered the unasked question. "With at least one hundred thousand visitors at any given time."

One point two million? Kamick's eyes widened briefly. The entire population of Lavestral had been only four million. So many people live in this cold?

"What proportion of the total planetary populace is that?" He heard Ji ask the droid.

"Between two and three percent," Cyc answered quickly. "There is no census, but the Empire's aerial estimates are roughly in the fifty million range."

"Fairly normal then," the noblewoman acknowledged.

Kamick did some quick math. Two percent? Had the spaceport on Lavestral been in that ratio? He thought it might have been.

"Xulin," the deputy caught the slight hesitation in Ji's voice as she mentioned the name. "Recommended seeking out a plastoid merchant named Lei'Nami. Cyc, can you pull the location from the datanet?"

"The Rakjas Authority needs to do some serious data-scrubbing," the droid complained. "But yeah, I got it. It's on the eastern side of town, it's going to be a bit of a walk, and the Empire's got an advisory saying we should avoid a neighborhood called Whitelace."

This roused Kamick's curiosity. He knew all about neighborhoods where the law didn't go, but he wondered what the reason was here. "Why's the Empire worried about that place?"

"The city has several minority populations in concentration," Cyc noted dryly. "Whitelace is an Oram neighborhood, and it seems there have been incidents there."

"The Oram are a Desga species are they not?" Ji remarked.

Drado added in a quick comment. Kamick still had no way of understanding the Kyuzo, but he was getting an idea of tone. It had not been complementary.

"Arrogant and prissy?" Ji asked in surprise.

"A crude but not...inaccurate assessment," Cyc offered, strangely without elaboration.

"Well, there is no point in waiting," Ji noted. "Lead the way."

As Cyc led them through the crowded streets, filled with citizens and droids going about everyday business, Kamick kept out a sharp eye. It did not take long to spot the Imperials.

The deputy's limited experience with the Empire had led him to expect stormtroopers on the streetcorners, but there was no white armor in evidence. Instead there were soldiers in brown and gray, wearing cheap plasteel combat vests and open-faced helmets with dark visors. They carried the E-11 blasters common to Imperial troops throughout the galaxy. Sloppy-looking, Kamick noted. These men reminded him of the worst of the deputies, unmotivated, lazy, and not very bright. Hardly a galaxy conquering army.

"The Empire does not deploy its best to the desolate frontier," Ji caught Kamick's study and came up beside him to whisper this insight. "But do not underestimate them, all have survived academy training and know to use their weapons. If they pin you down long enough to call in vehicles, then it can end very quickly."

"I'll keep that in mind," the deputy noted, recalling a passage one of his instructors had stressed. If you get shot by an idiot, you're not any less dead.

The walk to the merchant's was a long one, and the cold crept over Kamick bit by bit along the way. New clothes, absolutely, he decided. As soon as I get the chance. His appropriated spacer's wear wasn't going to cut it here. He was growing progressively more miserable with each block they passed.

"There it is," Cyc said at last, as night was beginning to fall. They had arrived in the morning on ship time, but mid-afternoon locally. Adjustment would take a while.

Kamick expected a merchant's residence would be busy, given the bustle of the city, but this place was oddly quiet. People passed on the street as normal, but it seemed off, there was no traffic in or out, and no shift in the lighting through windows, indicating stillness internally.

"Something's wrong here," he cautioned, holding out a hand. "We need to be careful."

"What makes you say-" Cyc started to object, but Drado raised a hand a pointed, noting shadows against an alley in front of the merchant's.

"Walk slowly to the left side of the street," Ji ordered in a voice kept to normal conversational tenor. "We have no details."

They made it only a few steps before the street burst into chaos.

"Everyone on the ground now!" A voice shouted, and armed men poured out of alleyways to blanket the street, blaster rifles held high.

Not army troops, Kamick noted. They wore white armor over a black base, without helmets. He did not recognize the mix.

Ji did. "CompForce!"

"Give it up Res scum!" one of the troopers, there had to be over twenty in the street already, shouted at the merchant's office. "It's game over."

Young isn't he? Kamick thought the trooper below his own age, barely an adult.

"Rut you!" a female voice shouted back from inside the office.

A window blew out in a cascade of shattered glass, and ruby bolts sent the CompForce troopers scurrying.

The Imperials recovered almost immediately, returning a hail of fire.

There were screams from within.

Drado grunted, but Ji held up a hand. "We're too exposed."

"And noticed," Cyc remarked cynically, as several of the troopers turned toward the group.

"Break for cover, now!" Ji ordered.

Kamick didn't need to be told twice. Holding his shield before him, he ran left, hoping to reach the bare safety of the nearest alleyway.

Ji was to his left, Cyc behind him, but Drado broke in the opposite direction.

The Kyuzo charged the nearest trooper, head lowered, taking several impacts against the armor of his hat.

When they closed Drado flipped down, skidding along the paving stones. His long legs kicked out, dropping the trooper in a heap. There was a quick flash of metal in a green-skinned hand, and then the Imperial was still.

Bouncing upright in a spin, Drado blasted out a burst of fire with his repeater, suppressing his foes as he dove to the opposite side of the street, sheltering behind a parked speeder.

The others dashed into cover under this distraction.

Kamick settled down on the edge, using his shield to defend his body and picking out targets with his blaster. The shield took several hits, but little fire was directed at them so far.

A series of loud bursts added to the discharge of his blaster, and Kamick knew Ji had tucked in beside him down low, adding the fire of her slugthrower to his own.

This unexpected assault dropped several troops, but the other armored opponents fell back into line and regrouped. "Are they going to charge us? That's madness!" Kamick couldn't hold back the words.

"CompForce is indeed mad," Ji commented dryly. "Cyc, hold your grenades till the charge comes, you'll have to break them up." She did not sound hopeful, a sentiment the deputy shared. There were too many of the enemy, and the distance too little for a strong defensive stand.

Then it got worse. Blasterfire from another direction joined in, behind the three in their sparse refuge.

The Imperial Army had decided to support its fellows.

Kamick felt the intense heat of a bolt as it passed just over his head, and then his body was suddenly pulled backwards, a blaster bolt passing mere inches in front of his eyes.

Blinking fiercely in an attempt to clear his vision, the deputy turned his head to see a quartet of army troops sprawled and bleeding on the pavement from strange wounds. There was a woman standing next him he did not recognize. She was middle-aged, he guessed, and not-quite-human. Her eyes were too large and round, and a bright sky blue he'd never seen before. Her nose was all but invisible, and she had a thin but wide mouth. She wore a strange frilled dress, black with white underskirt, in an archaic pattern, and there was large bow tied in her hair. The hair was the most astonishing piece, a continuous ice-blue wave reaching all the way down to her knees, yet it did not seem at all hindering, holding together as if on its own.

"You should watch your backside," she said to him, in a high, spritely voice. Turning to Ji she asked a single question. "Can you counterattack?"

"If there's an opening," the noblewoman answered without hesitation between shots.

"There will be," the woman's voice was tinged with sadness, and it was only then Kamick saw what she carried in her right hand, her only weapon. It was a large circular device of bronzed metal, with a small inner circle for a variety of handgrips. The wide flat outer disc sported four equidistant finned blades, and all edges were sharp as he had ever seen.

A discblade!

Zeison Sha!

The blue-haired lady stepped out from cover, and then stepped into the air.

It was impossible to describe it any other way, she did not seem to jump, but she was suddenly above the heads of all present, from CompForce soldier to cowering citizen.

"Sha!" one soldier screamed.

The discblade was thrown, and his head detached from his shoulders.

Impressive though this was, the blade did not stop there. Defying the laws of motion as nonexistent it shifted path in mid-flight, striking a second soldier, and then a third, ripping torso and arm, and then returning to the hand that flung it.

"Counterattack!" Ji screamed at the top of her lungs. "Go! Go! Go!" She jumped upright and surged forward.

Kamick, attention dangerously divided, followed, firing as he moved.

Cyc laughed. "Enjoy this one, trooper boys!" The droid pulled his grenade launcher up and fired three times.

Explosions rocked the street as the frag grenades burst among the troops.

They leaped apart, and into the grasp of the discblade.

More men fell, and others suffered grievous wounds as Drado's fire joined in the fray, the Kyuzo charging fearlessly through the enemy formation, dodging and weaving to avoid any counters.

"Die Sha!" one of the Compforce men rolled free and took a bead on the blue-haired woman as she landed among them.

Kamick snapped off a shot, striking the man in the back, but the armor took too much, and despite the pain the fanatical soldier fired anyway.

From somewhere, the deputy could not have said where, a stone surged across the intervening space and imposed itself in front of the blaster bolt.

Kamick shot the man again. This time he stayed down.

"Kill the Sha! Kill her now!" Heedless of the enemies behind on all sides, as the Twi'Lek continued to fire from within her office, the Compforce men all took aim at the discblade-wielder. They fired en masse.

She held out her left hand, palm up. Her discblade spun before her face, whirling through the air as bolt after bolt struck it. Then her right hand whipped around.

"Hey!" Kamick heard Cyc shout, and he understood what was coming.

A grenade screamed through the air, propelled by nothing but the Force, to hover above the gathered troops.

The explosion killed none, but the blast of wind knocked all to the ground.

"Concentrate fire!" Ji ordered.

None of them managed to get up again.

Breathing heavily, and with her discblade red hot, the blue woman turned to the building. "Lei, you must go now!"

"Right!" the twi'lek shouted back. "Come on!" she urged someone yet unseen. The door to the building opened, and a storm of small bodies surged outward.

Children, they were after children, but why? Kamick couldn't understand. They were not human children, having thin limbs, shock-white hair, and oddly fey faces. Another Desga species, he guessed.

"You are an officer?" the blue-haired woman had come up to Ji.

"Yes," the noblewoman answered.

"I appreciate your aid, but the situation remains urgent, they will have called for reinforcements," the Zeison Sha explained. "We must get them to safety," she gestured to the children.

"Where do we go?" Ji demanded, reacting quickly.

"There is a safehouse in Whitelace," the Zeison Sha explained. "I can give your droid coordinates."

"Why can't you lead us there?" Kamick wondered. "None of us know this city."

"I must lead the Empire away," she answered. "Have no fear, we shall meet again." She looked at him directly, staring deep with those great big eyes. "There is much to discuss."

"What's the address?" Ji hurried. "We have little time."

"87 Delice, Southeast, number 6," she told them.

"Got it," Cyc responded. "Plotting a course now. That way!" the droid pointed.

"Drado take point," Ji called the orders. "Kamick, I want you and Miss Lei," she referred to the Twi'Lek, a green-skinned middle-aged woman looking fierce but overwhelmed. "At the rear, your shield is the best defense we've got. Cyc, you're the guide, I'll hold the group together. Now, everyone move!"

The Zeison Sha nodded, and leaped to the top of the nearest building in an arching backflip.

Kamick watched her vanish, her discblade already in motion against oncoming foes, and then fell into line. The children ran down the alley, following Ji's urging to 'follow the orange droid,' but they were not quick.

Kamick held position against the wall. Children? Rutting Empire! He caught a glimpse of an army uniform peeking around the bend to the east, and shot rapidly, driving the man back. The Twi'lek's inexpert fire, from a sporting blaster, joined his own.

"Are we actually going to survive this?" she asked breathlessly. "Irina's gone!"

Somehow, the deputy had known the Zeison Sah must be the one they sought. The Force, he guessed. How strange. "No problem," he offered. "Ji can get us through this, she knows what she's doing." a quick glance revealed the noblewoman had put her rifle away and was herding the children along with waves of her long pike. "Ten seconds more," Kamick told the Twi'Lek. "Then we fall in line."

"Okay," she nodded hesitantly.

The Imperials tried to come around once more, and again they drove them back.

After that, it was time to run.

**Chapter Notes**

1. CompForce is the fanatical quasi-military arm of COMPNOR, Palpatine's political machine and youth indoctrination program. In this remote region they conduct many of the offensive activities, as the Imperial Army avoids such missions.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Chill Openings**

**Whitelace Safehouse, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

As it turned out, the children were all Orams, a local school class seized by COMPNOR agents in an attempt to blackmail the civic leaders of the neighborhood, who had sons and daughters among them.

"Idiocy," Kamick had heard Cyc's explanation. "Among the Oram a child is not truly a person until they have passed through an exotic series of tests at age fifteen. It wouldn't have done anything but make them mad."

A local resistance group had broken them out, but they had missed a tracking device implanted on one of the kids by the Imperials. Ji had ordered everyone searched the moment they entered Whitelace, suspecting something of the kind, and Kamick had found it on the bottom of a little girl's shoe. Contrary to his expectations, she had thanked him formally as opposed to crying when he did it. It was all the reminder he needed that these were not humans, no matter how close their looks.

The safehouse was a small honey processing facility run by an elderly Oram couple. It had an incredibly strong sugary smell, but was otherwise comfortable. Throughout the evening Kamick watched over the back door as they reunited the various children with their parents. Drado was perching on the rooftop, keeping an eye out for Imperials, while Ji spoke with several members of the local resistance cells.

Lei'Nami was the last to leave. Apparently the Empire had enough trouble telling the Orams apart that the children could stay in the city, but the Twi'Lek woman who had displayed the courage to shelter them would have to travel elsewhere. She was to be smuggled out of the city aboard a cargo hovertruck, and then join one of the nomadic herding communities found across much of the planet's tundra.

"Are you going to be okay out there?" Kamick asked her. "They say it's a hard life."

"I've been a merchant all my life," she told him, filled with joy. "It was a decent life, but not satisfying. Today I learned what it means to be one of our warriors. Of course it was worth it."

"Well..." he didn't quite get it. "Be careful out there, and get a pair of good boots." It was a perennial piece of outback wisdom, regardless of environment.

"Thanks," she giggled, and surprised him with a quick kiss as she stepped out the door.

"Not bad deputy," Cyc laughed at the quizzical expression Kamick knew he must be sporting. "Though I think she's a little old for you."

"Do I have to take that from a droid?" the deputy retorted.

"Would you rather from a woman?" Kamick recognized the voice, and spun around to see Irina, dusty and apparently exhausted, land in the alleyway.

He rushed out, offering her a hand.

She waved him away. "I am fine, just tired. I have exerted much today."

Ji appeared in the doorway, noting the new arrival. "Best to get inside," she encouraged. "There is no telling what eyes might be watching."

Irina nodded, and walked in before Kamick. He did not know quite what to make of her. She was not what Xulin had made him expect.

Kamick closed the door behind them, and Ji motioned for Irina to take a chair. "Our hosts have food available," the noblewoman spoke deferentially. "I'm sure you're hungry."

"That would be nice," Irina said with a smile. "But nothing hot."

Kamick and Ji shared looks of puzzlement.

"Blue-caste Maskri don't eat heated food, and prefer all meals chilled," Cyc explained from his perch against a nearby wall. "The entire species has this strange fascination with temperature."

"Why don't you go tell our hosts what is suitable then, Cyc," Ji instructed.

"Of course, everybody makes the droid work," the unit mumbled, but it was not an unfair assignment. His hull's a bit dinged up, Kamick knew. But he's way less tired than the rest of us. Droids required downtime, but they could go much further than flesh under most circumstances.

"It has been a long day," Ji offered by way of excuse to Irina. "But a fortuitous one in many ways it seems."

"Yes," the Zeison Sha agreed, sipping from a glass of water left on the small table between them. Kamick took this opportunity to sit down with the two women. He wanted to stay a part of this.

"There was no time for proper introductions on the battlefield," Ji noted carefully. "I am Jia Ji, my companions are Kamick Travan," she nodded to the deputy. "The droid Cyc, and Drado, who is presently on guard duty. Forgive my presumption, but I believe you are the Zeison Sha Irina."

"So I am," Irina smiled. "You were looking for me?" It was not a guess, the Force-user must have known.

Kamick found this somewhat disconcerting, but Ji took it in stride. "Yes, one of your compatriots suggested we contact you when we arrived on Kratovas." She pulled out the holodisc. "I have a message from her."

Irina simply waited, making no expression as Ji walked over to the small home unit and projected the disk. She seems so much more relaxed than Xulin, Kamick decided. Is that age, or location, or species?

Xulin's message was brief, explaining the basics of the slaver plot as it was known, and what Xerweg had told them. The Ubese also revealed Kamick's Force-sensitivity, causing the deputy to sit bolt upright. He still couldn't get his head around it. Xulin's request to Irina to train him was heartfelt, and he felt grateful to the Ubese for her kindness.

Irina took these revelations in stride, looking casually over at Kamick as they were announced. He tried to read into the massive blue eyes, but failed. The Zeison Sha woman seemed accepting and content in almost everything.

"I thought you might have the ability," Irina announced when Xulin's recording was finished. "And it seems you made quite an impression on my young fellow warrior." It was odd for her to use the term warrior. Deadly though she had been against the Imperials, the Maskri did not project the hard-edged combat nature found in Xulin or Drado. "I cannot recall the last time I heard of an Ubese asking a favor for another for anything at all."

Before Kamick could say anything, Irina turned back to Ji. "I believe your belief in this threat is correct, and I will help you. I know the place the Hutt spoke of, it is on the southern continent. We can make plans in the morning."

"My thanks," Ji bowed her head.

Only then did the Zeison Sha address Kamick directly. "You can become Zeison Sha, in time," she spoke clearly, one word at a time, fixing him with those ice-blue eyes. "Since I will travel with you, I am willing to be your teacher, but I must know if you are ready."

"What do you mean?" the deputy could sense the approach of the crossroads, the next few minutes could well change the rest of his life.

"There is no going back with this," Irina told him. "To become Zeison Sha is to become a warrior in the battle of survival, to fight on the front lines of the struggle of life all your days. You will be committed to success, there is no failure, and even should you succeed you will find the rewards are few, the honors limited, and the exhaustion constant. In the end, it is both worthwhile and necessary, but I will not teach you against your will. Are you willing?"

Oddly, Kamick found he had heard the speech before. It was the same as his father had told him when he accepted the sheriff's department's offer. To become an outback deputy meant giving up so much for the sake of other people, people you didn't know, sometimes even those who despised you. It was not so long ago I was nothing more than that deputy, he realized. It seems a different life, but it's still the same. So was his answer.

"Yes."

"Then you are now a Zeison Sha Initiate Kamick Travan," Irina's words carved their way through the air to settle on him. Like putting the badge on for the first time all over again. Seemingly innocuous, incredibly important. "Your first lesson, go into the street tonight and stay there until you are no longer cold."

His mind spun at the suddenness, and the strangely counter-intuitive remark. He thought to protest, then decided against it. A student obeys the teacher, he knew, and so he got up, and headed out the back door. I wish I had a coat, he thought grimly.

"It's summer, this is the equator, how can it be this cold?" Kamick groaned, walking down one of Whitelace's many maze-like side streets. It had to be close to one in the morning locally. He wanted nothing more than to find his way back to the honey plant and a cot. Only his unwillingness to fail his first task kept him from rushing back. Not that he was any closer to figuring it out than before.

He'd thought Irina had meant for him to harness the Force somehow, but he hadn't the first idea how to do that, to do anything with the Force at all. Rut, I don't even know what the Force is, he grumbled silently. How could I make it do anything? Xulin had implied he could subconsciously touch the Force, trust his hunches and so forth, but that was all. Producing warmth, if the Force could even do something like that, was way beyond him.

Probably have to meditate or something, like the martial arts crazies back home, Kamick guessed. His efforts in that department had accomplished nothing, and simply left him shivering in back alleys. He figured it couldn't be more than a few degrees above freezing. The temperature had plunged immensely from what it had been when the sun was shining.

Doesn't seem to bother the locals though, the deputy had noticed, and found it only made him more miserable. White-haired Orams laughed and partied through the streets, and in what seemed to be a species pastime threw vicious insults at each other in unending stream. It appeared to be some kind of strange kind of game to claim how superior you were to everyone else. What an unusual people, he thought. They were not unkind to outsiders, however, or perhaps word of the afternoon's events had spread, for he was left completely alone.

The later it became the streets gradually emptied of living beings, leaving Kamick alone with the droids. So, the city never sleeps, he thought wryly. It just switches gears. He suspected the droids were actually few in number compared to a city on a more advanced system. He saw only basic units, ASPs, power droids, and the occasional pit droid or Treadwell, nothing advanced. I wonder if Cyc's the most advanced droid on the whole planet? It didn't seem like much of a stretch.

If I were a droid this task would be easy. Cold was a foreign thing to most automatons, at least in anything resembling a habitable zone. They just didn't feel such irrelevancies. Could he change his focus? The deputy wondered. Maybe just ignore the temperature.

This proved slightly more successful than his previous idea. Focusing deep down Kamick discovered he could distract himself with memory and repetition until the cold sort of faded into the background, so it wasn't an issue, at least for a while. I'm still cold though, he recognized, he just didn't care quite so much anymore. It wasn't what Irina had wanted.

Trying not to think about what time it was, he turned down a new street, and discovered a cargo truck unloading. Groceries, he guessed, and headed closer, idly curious as to what the Orams ate compared to ordinary humans. Most of the workers were ASPs, but there was a driver and a supervisor present. It seemed to going smoothly enough.

Then one of the ASPs slipped, there must have been water or debris on the dock. The droid went down, and its burden, a large drum, slipped free.

"Rut!" Kamick started moving even as the plasteel barrel careened off the dock to strike the supervisor in the side. The man collapsed, the driver yelled, and the droids stopped dead.

It was not a long distance, and Kamick was at the man's side in a moment. He grabbed at the drum and rolled it away. Not that heavy, he realized hopefully. Some kind of light liquid inside.

The supervisor was Oram, and like all the others thin and small of limb, but he did not cry out in pain. "Are you alright?" Kamick demanded, gently tapping his face to make certain he was conscious.

"Pathetic, so pathetic," the Oram muttered, and the deputy could hear the pain in the voice.

At least he's awake, Kamick thought. He looked at the man, searching for serious injuries. There was no blood, and nothing obviously twisted, but he suspected a broken bone was likely. "Help me get him up." He told the driver, who had quickly come over.

With the other Oram's assistance they picked the injured supervisor up by the shoulders and placed him in the passenger seat of the truck. "He should see a doctor," Kamick advised. "There may be a fracture."

"Thank you sir," the supervisor strained. "I am sorry for my weakness."

"Just make sure you get checked over," Kamick didn't get these people at all. "You've got him from here?" He asked the driver.

"Yes, your aid is gracious human," the oram told him cautiously. "But you should go now."

"Right," the deputy recognized these people had strange customs, and he didn't want to get into some mess, especially not without Ji or Cyc present.

It was only when he left the truck behind that Kamick realized he had not been cold at all during the whole situation.

I'm an idiot, he thought. Body heat. He broke into a jog. Battle of survival Irina had said, how could he miss it? It was blindingly obvious. He could use his own energy to fight back against the cold. I didn't think of it at first because I was so tired, he recognized, which, he suspected, was exactly what the Zeison Sha had intended.

I underestimated her, Kamick was able to laugh at himself briefly. Irina's flighty dress, high voice, and big eyes made her seem soft, almost kiddy. She was anything but. This is going to be tough. Good.

By the time he got back to the safehouse, Kamick was soaked with sweat and utterly spent, but he was anything but cold.

"So the Zygerrians, and likely some kind of Imperial support, are here," Ji pointed on the holomap they had projected onto the table. "And the nearest settlement is a good fifty clicks north, in this coastal fjord. That's not going to make it easy to approach secretly."

"Considering that the ruins are inside a two-klick thick glacier," Kamick marveled over the very idea, two-kilometer thick ice? He'd never even heard the word glacier before today. The holos Cyc had shown horrified him. "I don't think it's going to be easy to approach at all."

"We will have to get closer and then make a decision," Ji decided. "I suppose we can short hop there using _Nomad Sentry_."

"Not going to happen," Cyc interjected suddenly. "I put a standing search into the registry, and it just came back with a hit. The _Ironstar_'s in orbit."

Ji sighed briefly. "I see, and since they recognize the ship, we will no doubt be attacked if we make any moves. Very well," she acquiesced. "We can still rent an airspeeder for the purpose."

"The Empire has limited all such movements," Irina shook her head. "At present even landspeeders are closely monitored."

Kamick looked at the map, still a bit bleary eyed, it had been a long night. "You can't expect us to walk almost four thousand kilometers."

"There is also the small problem of an ocean in the way," Ji noted. "There must be air travel to the southern two continents." Kratovas had wide, flat land on vast continents, with many lakes and huge expanses of tundra. Its oceans were small and shallow, but still barriers.

"Cargo flows to Skirantalis, a large settlement on the north coast," Irina offered.

Ji looked back to the map. "About one thousand klicks from there. That would take what, a month?"

"A quick group, with extra mounts, could move faster, perhaps as few as twenty days," The Zeison Sha told her.

"Mounts?" Kamick questioned.

"Banthas, or other animals if they are available," Irina spoke of it as if this were commonplace. "It is how the herders travel."

"A month," Ji mused. "If we can acquire a vehicle on site we could reduce the return trip considerably, though I dislike relying on such a plan. Approaching as herders does mean we can probably get closer than we would otherwise." She turned to Irina. "You are familiar with the back-country of this planet?"

"Yes," she nodded. "There are dangers, but not insurmountable ones."

"Hmm..." Ji considered, and Kamick wondered once again why Irina did not simply choose. It is her planet, and she is more experienced as well. The Maskri woman must have had over a decade on Ji. Why defer?

"I see few better options," the noblewoman admitted at length. "And this ought to throw the slavers off the trail. I suppose even if circumstances change it is better to prepare for the wilderness journey, it would not do to be stranded. We'll do it that way." She loked back at Irina. "Do we provision here or in Skirantalis?"

"Here," the Zeison Sha replied. "The settlements have little to spare, even mounts may prove expensive."

"I see," Ji turned to him. "Go with Irina and purchase the supplies we need. I will secure passage and cargo space for all of it. Drado can move the _Nomad Sentry_ to long-term storage. Cyc, localize all the data you think we'll need, I suspect we are going to be off the datanet for some time. I'll contact you via comlink when everything is ready."

Kamick left with Irina, headed towards a market in the main part of the city. He kept his eyes sharp, and his hand was close to his pistol at all times. Who knew what the Imperial reaction to yesterday would be. That Irina walked about openly wearing the discblade amazed him.

"Surprised?" the Masrki woman noticed the attention he paid to the weapon. "The people will not betray me, and it buoys them to be seen. The Empire will not act against a Zeison Sha save in number, and there would be warning beforehand. If a squad of troopers wishes to expend their lives attacking me, that is their foolishness and the Empire's loss."

Growing up the deputy had been forced to learn about the Imperial extermination of the Jedi, who were also Force-users. That the same had not happened to the Zeison Sha puzzled him. We're a long ways from Imperial Center, he admitted. The Empire had a light touch here, but even so. "Don't you, or I guess we," he amended carefully, reading the look he was given. He didn't really think of himself as a Zeison Sha yet. "Have to worry about Inquisitors or something?"

"Inquisitors who come to the Kalat Arm die," Irina's voice turned hard. "They are trained for a different foe, and we give them no mercy. The first few rounds of disappearances convinced the others to stay away." she paused for a moment. "That is not to say there are no threats. We are only one jump away from our greatest foe, Jasrol Mintran, and that dark one has minions trained to fight us. If the Hostility Legion should appear, run."

Kamick had heard the frightful name a few times. The Shadow Guard who ruled Yanibar in the Emperor's name, a corruption on the homeworld of the Zeison Sha. "How is he still alive then?" he asked.

Irina seemed to fold up slightly, and was silent for a moment. The deputy wondered if she was going to tell him at all. When she finally spoke, she stopped walking, and only whispered. "Jasrol Mintran gave himself to the darkness, and the Emperor, he calls himself by nothing more than a number now, but his name was the one he had when he was Zeison Sha."

Kamick's jaw dropped.

"It is our greatest failure of the present era," Irina continued. "And best not mentioned where others can hear, but Mintran knows us, and is very strong on his own. So none have yet managed to destroy him. Eventually, one will succeed. I will explain more later, you are not yet to the point of this lesson."

Swallowing hard, Kamick nodded. The overlord of Yanibar, the biggest symbol of Imperial rule in the region aside from the _Lacerator_ was a former Zeison Sha? What did I agree too?

Irina was silent until they reached the market.

There, inside a great hall of many stalls, they rented an ASP to pull a repulsorsled and made a flurry of purchases. Kamick tried to keep track of them all as best he could, wondering what the back-country of this planet was like. Cold, he guessed, but there was surely more to it than that. Irina ordered preserved rations in large quantities, thermal cloaks and blankets, extra ammunition, energy cells, medical gear, and more. A lot was very standard, the unusual clothing and sprays were not. "What's all this?" Kamick wondered.

"Insect-proof clothing and repellent," the Zeison Sha said casually. "It is summer, there will be a great deal of activity."

"Bugs?" The ashes of Lavestral had been generally short of such pests. "How bad can that be?"

"Some itch, some make you sick, a few can even kill," Irina remarked. "The city has beacons set up at the boundaries to repel them, but in the wilderness we must be more careful."

"Oh," Kamick didn't like the sound of that. Thirty days? He thought again, and shuddered.

"I do not think you will have much time to worry about insects," Irina's voice was filled with good-natured menace. "I intend to compress a great deal of training onto our travels. You shall not be thinking about anything else."

The deputy simply shook his head at this. I'm in for it now, he decided. Suck it up.

**Chapter Notes**

1. Banthas, not just for Tuskens. Several broad commonalities like Banthas and ASP droids are mentioned in this chapter. Some things just get everywhere.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 – The Long, Cold Ride**

**Skirantalis, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Kamick found the experience of riding a bantha rather disturbing. The creature's gait was solid and steady, covering ground well, but the massive body created a disconnect from the motion. The deputy felt he was on the galaxy's slowest, hairiest, and least stable landspeeder, not a living animal. "This is going to take some getting used to," he told Irina, riding behind him on the same beast.

"We will ride some and walk some," the Maskri woman explained. "It is best to walk in dry areas where the ground is solid, and let the banthas carry us through wetlands."

That made sense, Kamick had to admit. He'd never thought the tundra would be so wet. The bleak landscape, all muddy green and brown, with occasional flashes of color from clumps of flowers, stretched on forward. I can't believe you can see so far! Lavestral's lava flows made an open view of more than few kilometers a rarity, yet here the flat land stretched all the way to the horizon. It was amazing, and kind of disturbing.

There were six banthas all together, carrying the group and their gear. Cyc rode the lead animal, looking incredibly awkward on its back. Despite this incongruity, the droid was fully capable of handling the animal, and had more experience in the saddle than the rest of them put together. Ji and Drado followed on the second in the team. The noblewoman had a modicum of riding experience, for herders raised banthas on Tianjiang as well, though not quite such shaggy specimens. She did not appear to much like it however, and had already begun to complain about hairs getting mixed into her own scalp. Kamick suspected Irina had some Zeison Sha trick to get around that problem, otherwise she would be suffering miserably. Drado, was, as usual, opaque as to his feelings. The deputy believed the Kyuzo preferred walking.

Three pack animals brought up the rear, loaded down with the supplies necessary for a month in the wilderness. As the modest walls of Skirantalis retreated behind them, the reality of the sojourn began to settle upon Kamick. It was going to be a long journey indeed.

"What do you know of the Force?" Irina asked a moment later, signaling that training had truly begun.

"Not much," Kamick felt only a little ashamed to admit that. "It's how you do what you do, and that's about it."

"The foolishness of the Empire," the Zeison Sha remarked. "Well, so be it. The Force is well, a force." She began. "Like gravity, it is an intrinsic part of the universe."

"It didn't come up much during physics class," the deputy noted.

"The Emperor wishes the knowledge of the Force to fade from the galaxy, so only he and his minions control it," Irina answered with some bitterness. "It is a mad dream, but many have been stunted by this. Had you been taught of the Force as a child, you might well have awakened to your abilities at a much younger age." Irina took a careful breath and returned to her lecture. "But the Force is not a sterile thing like gravity, it is connected to all life. Indeed, it is the Force that makes life possible. If there was no Force you could assemble a human but it would not live."

"Okay," Kamick could accept that, it made a certain kind of cosmic sense. Why shouldn't there be some aspect of reality that made life possible? It might have been strange otherwise.

"The Force is always present, always around us, an energy field overlapping the galaxy," the Zeison Sha continued. "It can be stronger or weaker in places, but it is always present. Like gravity the Force exerts a pull upon living creatures, especially those sensitive to it."

"A pull? Like control?" That sounded ominous.

"Does the gravity of Kratovas control you?" Irina questioned. "Few would say so, but its hold is firm and can be broken only with great energy. The pull of the Force is like that, it is attuned to life, so through it you are brought closer to events of significance to the living, particularly sentient beings, who concentrate the Force."

"That's where the insight comes from, right?" he recalled what Xulin had said.

"Precisely," Irina answered, sounding pleased. "But it is not a simple thing. The Force can offer expanded awareness, a new perspective on knowledge, even glimpses of what may be to come, but it cannot make decisions."

Kamick's confusion must have showed on his face, so Irina elaborated. "Many who use the Force believe what it offers them is somehow the voice of the divine, or that the Force has a deliberate intention. This is ridiculous, gravity does not desire anything, and neither does the Force. You must learn to interpret what you sense, and always make your own decisions." she pulled out a datapad. "Sometimes a practical demonstration is best," she held the screen up, showing an image of swirling color patterns to Kamick.

"What's that, some kind of optical illusion?" He asked.

"A full-color plot of selenium density in soils by depth and concentration for the land surrounding Rakjas Spaceport," Irina smiled. "You cannot read what it means, and neither can I, but the droid Cyc could, as could a geologist."

Kamick nodded, he started to understand what she was getting at. "The Force just provides data, and I can learn to read it, but its just like any other kind of data, you could always read it wrong."

"That is correct, but it is even more complicated," Irina's eyes darkened. "Data like this soil map is valueless, but the Force is not like that. It has two sides."

"Two sides?"

"As electricity has positive and negative charge, so the Force has a light side and a dark side," she told him. "The light side is creative, beneficial. It heals, constructs, and allows life to flourish. The dark is the opposite. It destroys, shatters, and tears down. Creation versus entropy."

"I take it the dark side is to be avoided," the deputy gathered from her tone.

"On a cosmic level the dark side is necessary," Irina admitted. "I have little understanding of physics, but my teacher told me without entropy the universe would consist of nothing but a great mass of ever-fusing particles, endless energetic nothing."

Kamick doubted his physics was much better than hers, but he thought that was right.

"Though I have just said that, you must never utilize the Dark Side," the Zeison Sha ordered. "And you will be tempted."

"Tempted?" In his mind he saw Xulin standing before Xerweg, filled with rage and fury. She had been a torrent of power, but it had been so cold. Holding the memory close he understood now what Xulin had said afterwords, and realized had he been in her place, he too would have been sorely tempted. "Does the Dark Side offer power?"

"It does," Irina spoke gravely. "Of a sort. The power of the Dark Side is the strength of destruction, it is quicklyseized, and potent against one's enemies, but ultimately it cannot save or preserve, only destroy. Understand this, the Force resonates with emotion. Why this is so I do not know, it would be an easier life if it did not, but it is. Destructive emotions will draw the Dark Side, and once you give in you shall find it all but impossible to escape. In thrall to its power you will destroy not only your enemies, but all before you, even those you love dearest. You will feed upon yourself to survive, and power and glory will bring no satisfaction. Ultimately the Dark Side is all consuming, leaving only a legacy of naught but pain and suffering. So are the emperor and his minions, you need look no further for a cautionary tale."

"How do we avoid the Dark Side?" You can't live without anger, I'm human after all.

"Do not let your emotions rule you, and always be wary of absolutes in anything, unwavering conviction is the path to fanaticism, and leads to compromises of virute," Irina advised. "Hold fast to your moral code and it will serve you well. Most important of all, do not believe you are above others. They do not have the Force, yes, but you could not read that soils chart. An accident of birth does not confer superiority."

So that's why they do not lead, the deputy realized. It was a precaution, a way of avoiding the Dark Side. Power corrupts, after all, everyone knew that. He had seen it in service, even the tiny, local power given to a deputy could twist men up inside. The power to hurl a man through a wall with a flick of the hand, stang...

"We will return to the Dark Side, for it lingers always beneath the ice, waiting to strike, but for now let us talk of other things," the Maskri instructed. She put her datapad away and took out the discblade, marvelously sharp as always. "Reality is motion," she said. "The physicists have proven that as well, but you should know it instinctively. Motions and collisions, a constant struggle of space and speed. The Force exists about all that motion, and by exerting ourselves in the Force we can influence that endless struggle. This is how we move objects."

"Okay," it sounded rather esoteric, but Kamick listened carefully.

Irina flipped the discblade into the air, so it hovered before her. She took a deep breath and then blew it out, causing the metal ring to spin. "I have just moved the discblade through the strength of my lungs, but with the Force is the same." Without any visible input, the blade spun again, this time in the other direction. "Grasp the image of the object, feel the flow of motion around it, and then sweep that motion as you desire it." She passed him the Discblade.

He took it with great care, mindful of the terrible sharp edges on all sides.

"The discblade serves as a focus for our training, as well as weapon and tool," the Zeison Sha intoned. "It is distinctive, and so serves well. It is also a symbol. When you cease to be an initiate you will be given one of your own."

"Xulin didn't carry a Discblade," Kamick blurted. She'd called herself a warrior, had that been a lie?

"Your Ubese friend is a true warrior, have no fear," Irina smiled gently. "We are not an army, the Zeison Sha, there are no rules of dress or arms, just as there are no ranks beyond warrior and initiate, each Zeison Sha is their own, a member in a great tradition, nothing more. Perhaps you will choose to carry a discblade, perhaps not, that time is a long way to come. For now you will use mine." She tapped it gently. "Many others have done as you are doing now. Relax, let your mind and body open to the Force, to the flow, and concentrate on lifting the blade out of your hands to hover in the air."

"Go around again," Irina ordered, without malice or amusement. "I will meet you back at camp."

Witch! Kamick thought bitterly. Ten days of running around on this hideous muck. I'll drop from exhaustion before I learn to wield the Force. Irina had not seemed the type, with her childish face and voice and words of wisdom, but she was merciless.

The tundra was equally unforgiving.

Sighing, Kamick took a moment to center his concentration and started running again. There was a brook some distance from the cluster of stones where they had camped. He figured it at just over half a kilometer. Irina's task was to run back and forth from the brook to camp, carrying an open canteen in each hand, and to avoid spilling any water while he did the whole thing.

It was maddening.

The theory was simple, run as hard as he could, and at the same time use the Force to keep the canteens completely steady, unaffected by the running motion. The Maskri woman claimed holding something still when it wanted to move was far more difficult than imparting momentum on a still object, and so was the best training.

The deputy was with her on the difficulty part. This was his ninth trial, under the long evenings of the high latitude summer, and he'd yet to even get close to completing it. Half-measures and partial successes all, he thought as he ran. That's my record. He'd not failed outright at any of Irina's tasks, but neither had their been a single clear success. The Zeison Sha claimed this was normal until he became comfortable with the Force, but it was incredibly frustrating.

At least there aren't any distractions, he smiled as he ran, dodging one of the ten million holes that cropped up on any path through the tundra. He knew why the banthas of this world had such big padded feet now. And to think, Kamick laughed. I used to think walking on lava flows was bad.

He was doing better this time, he saw. A bubble of air around each canteen, make a bubble and hold it there, he visualized the technique in that way, and he could feel the air, held in with the Force, around his hands. So far so good.

Then he hit a dip.

Immediately Kamick's body shifted, reflexively reacting to the change in elevation, and his focus broke. Water splashed onto his hands.

"Stang," he shouted in frustration. "How can I beat my own body? Do I need a new set of reflexes?"

He meant it ironically, but he could almost hear Irina agreeing with the remark. I have to make using the Force a reflex, a natural thing, not deliberate? How am I supposed to do that? He'd afterwards ask the Zeison Sha, she had solid ways of explaining things. Assuming my legs don't give out on the way back, he gripped. His pace was already slower than normal. Day after day of this is beating me down.

Though the landscape was broadly flat and open, with nothing much taller than a bush, it rolled up and down, so it was difficult to see much in the far distance with any clarity.

There was a person at the brook!

Kamick forgot the exercise immediately. There were herders out here, he knew, but everyone said they only traveled in large groups. A lone human was unbelievable. We're two days from the nearest settlement, Ji had told him when they arranged camp, almost as isolated as we'll be the whole journey. What is this person doing?

The figure collapsed to the ground on the edge of the stream.

Kamick ran as hard as he could.

Splashing across the water, not caring that he was quickly soaked by the chill waters, the deputy discovered a man dressed similar to him, in the full body covering and fine mesh visor needed to keep away the ubiquitous insects. These clothes were ragged and torn, and there was a hideous gash across the back. Kamick had seen plenty of kinds of wounds, and he knew immediately that was not caused by any blade.

"Are you alright?" he called, grabbing the fallen man.

The other man's eyes were bleary as Kamick turned him over, he seemed on the edge of being unable to see. Massive blood loss, the deputy knew. He's barely alive. "You..." this survivor wheezed weakly, hardly able to speak. "Ambush...failed...scattered...drew them in..."

A resistance fighter? The man was human, and his Basic was unaccented, but with so many immigrants to Kratovas in recent decades that meant nothing.

"Tried to...to find...water..." the man breathed. Kamick reached into his belt as he spoke, grabbing and pulling out the cable he carried. I can cut a short length and use clothes to tie a bandage. This man needed immediate care. "Throw them off...scent," the fallen man continued to ramble. "Did-...work."

A fit of deep and horrible coughing seized the injured man, and blood ran from his mouth, tinged with veins of black.

"Hey! Hey!" Kamick yelled when the man said nothing more. He put a finger to the throat, feeling for a pulse.

There was nothing.

"Rut!" Kamick's mind went blank for a moment, unable to reason. He's seen death before, but never like this. What just happened?

There wasn't enough bloodloss for him to die, a part of his mind tried to shelter in logic. It had to be something else. His eyes settled on the stained ground the man had coughed all over. Poison... The revelation dawned. He tried to lose the scent in the river...predators!

"Ji, come in!" he grabbed at his comlink.

"Kamick?" the noblewoman replied a moment later. "What is it?" She skipped over any pleasantries, recognizing his urgency.

"There's something dangerous out here," the deputy reported. "Maybe very close."

"Dromaes!" Irina's voice cut in over the conversation. "East!"

Kamick stood in slow shock. East? They were on the other side of the camp!

His mind latched onto a simple, minute fact capable of filling him with terror.

I have the discblade!

Irina had left it with him for training, and also had him carry the riot shield strapped to his back. His blaster was back at camp, useless.

Kamick ran.

Ji saw them in the same moment Irina shouted.

By the winds, she breathed. This world spawned such terrors?

They were birdlike, in part, but massive, standing as tall as Kamick even as their heads stretched forward to run. Their bodies were long and thin, as long as Drado was tall at least, and with a tail half again as long as the whole frame. White and gray feathers, some stained with mud and blood, covered their bodies, but they did not possess beaks, instead snapping jaws filled with tearing teeth. Two hands reached forward as they ran, ending in sharp claws, as did the feet, where the true danger lay.

On each foot rested an upturned claw Ji judged longer than her hand. It drew the eye and promised death.

Dromaes, Irina had named them, and the noblewoman knew she'd never seen a more ferocious predator. Their pack was large, she guessed at least a dozen animals.

"Drado!" Ji shouted. "Protect the banthas!" The herd animals were sheltering among a rock formation, a site much used by the herders of this continent. If they are killed, then we are stranded here, Ji knew.

The Kyuzo was upright in an instant, charging across in front of the predators, interposing himself between these monsters and their mounts. He fired a quick burst from his rifle, striking one in the side.

The smell of burnt feathers stained the air. The Dromae fell, but kicked rapidly and surged back up.

Feathers, Ji realized. The thick feather mantle, protection against the chill of the tundra, also dissipated the energy of blasters.

Drado came to the same realization in a second, discarding the blaster rifle and charging in at the pack. Perhaps half split toward the Kyuzo and the banthas. The others ran at the camp. Ji counted seven in all, no eight, but one broke west, toward Kamick's position.

I am alone but for the droid, the noblewoman realized suddenly. Irina was still running back, the Zeison Sha would not make it until they had already struck, and she was also unarmed.

So be it, Ji had left her slugthrower rifle with her gear, thirty meters distant and useless, but her vibro-pike was always with her.

She extended it now, the telescoping weapon blossoming to full size, the ultrasonic vibrations activating with their familiar whine. She brought the blade around before her in a smooth, well practiced motion, feeling the comfort of the weapon as she always did. Setting it braced before her, rising up at an angle just slightly above parallel with the ground she stood ready to meet the charge.

Drado struck first. The Kyzuo whipped past the five charging dromaes in front of him, launching his hat as he slid sideways to their path. The heavy metal device slammed into a reptilian maw dead center.

The Dromae, tough boned, reared in pain and confusion.

Paused in motion it made a perfect target, and Drado's knife took it in the left eye.

It went down thrashing.

The Kyuzo was not done, backflipping into a spinning leap to bound among the predators. He looped a long hand out, grabbing one by the neck even as claws flashed past his face. Vaulting upright the warrior grabbed another knife and jammed it into the creature's throat.

This one tumbled into a heap, slamming its fellow as it collapsed.

The chaos broke the other three dromaes apart, as they dodged the flailing claws and teeth of their brethren.

Ji had no more time to observe the Kyuzo fight, for the enemy was upon her.

"The foot-claws are poison!" she heard Irina warn as the first of them crashed down.

Charging in together, the seven animals broke apart at the last moment, letting a single one strike in for the kill.

It lunged.

Ji waited, shifting her body every-so-slightly at the last moment.

It was like being hit by a landspeeder. The beast slammed straight into the pike, the head lodging deep in its chest, the sheer force of the impact threatening to rip it from her hands or carry her to the ground.

With all her strength Ji held to her weapon.

A normal blade would have been torn from her hands, and durasteel alloy or no, likely snapped in half as the dromae collapsed upon it, but this was not a normal blade. It was a vibroblade, capable of shearing through ship bulkheads. The flesh and bone of the ribcage parted before it, the spearhead jumping free even as Ji spun about, slicing the tail clean off the last of the animals.

Her direction reversed, the squad leader observed as one of the beasts closed on Cyc. The droid launched a grenade at its feet, sending the creature flying into the air, body mangled.

The dromae did not give in so easily. It's momentum carried it toward the droid still, and thrashing legs scrapped the metal plating and dragged Cyc down.

"Get off! Get off!" Ji heard the droid scream. She did not worry for the machine, it could not be poisoned or eaten, but wished he was still in the fight.

Irina crested the hill and three of the monsters charged her, while one circled back to Ji.

Ji did not fear a single predator, but the Zeison Sha had no weapon, and what use to throw these creatures to the ground with the Force? There was nothing but mud and prairie for them to hit.

"Irina!" A cry from the west revealed Kamick shared her concern.

The Maskri woman displayed no outward concern as the draomaes charged down upon her, teeth snapping. Calmly she reached down at her feet, splashing her hand through a puddle left by yesterday's rain.

What is she doing? Ji watched a Irina's eyes closed, and her incredibly long hair rose up wildly about her, till it shone in the light of the evening sun. The water froze before her eyes, becoming a long and jagged dart.

A flick of the wrist and it struck deep into the chest of the first Dromae.

Ji was astonished, but there was no time to marvel, for her remaining opponent circled close, looking for a chance to snap in and take her apart.

Carefully Ji brought her spear up, pulling it in close to her body, holding herself tight. She kept her feet steady, natural, an everyday posture.

The dromae lunged, powerful legs spinning it about, going for her back.

Ji twisted, right foot taking a single step back, all weight on the left, and spun the spear down.

The head of the dromae split in half at her stroke.

Irina jumped back, dodging between the two remaining predators attacking her. Her Force-quickened steps kept her from the reach of their claws, but she had no chance to make another blade of ice, and a single misstep would spell her doom.

"Irina!" Ji heard Kamick call again, and what occurred next astonished her.

Kamick knew he wouldn't make it from the first step. Those monstrous creatures were so fast! He'd never seen the like. Lavestral had no large predators, but he felt the ancient terror all men carried from the days when they'd once roamed the wilds long ages past. He knew there was very real danger.

Even as he thought he would do nothing but stand by and watch his comrades stand or fall on their own, unable to act, one of the pack broke off and charged at him.

Only then did the deputy realize he had no idea how to stop one of these creatures. I have no weapon! He did not know how to use the discblade properly, and it was useless as an improvised blade in close quarters.

That left the shield, and he pulled it free and strapped it down, not knowing what he could do, simply standing ready in the anti-riot stance he'd been taught, braced to hold back the charge.

The dromae did not hit like a human mob, Kamick realized too late. It charged and at the last moment snapped its head around on a long, flexible neck, jaws wide, trying to rip free an arm.

He barely got the shield in the way, but the creature still hit him, four hundred kilograms moving half again as fast as a running human.

Thrown to the ground Kamick felt the wind fly from his lungs, and his vision spun. Instinctively he kept the shield in front.

The dromae attacked, scraping against the hard plastoid, not with its jaws, but the long and deadly foot claws, the weapons that had killed the man who warned them. Those legs were terribly powerful, punching massive scars in the plastoid.

It's going to punch through! Kamick realized in sudden terror. He couldn't stay under the beast, but he was trapped in muddy ground, no way to slide free. If only I had a blaster, I could make it rear in pain at least!

The next strike punched through the shield, a hand's breadth of claw piercing clean past the plastoid. Desperately Kamick held the shied out, straining his arm terribly. Got to get it off!

Utterly lost, he let his eyes close in the face of that terribly feathered reptile face, and then exerted all he had, throwing out his right arm.

"Get off!"

He felt a surge of energy, standing beneath a waterfall, cascade through him and outward, slamming into the feral bulk of the dromae.

All four hundred kilograms of predator were hurled over a meter into the air and then crashed to the ground.

Part of his mind marveled at what he had just done, but another part, a simpler, more practical part, took action. Keep it down! It told him, the legacy of training that demanded a subject on the ground remain there. Anything upright was a threat.

The Dromae was fast, but Kamick was smaller, and blessed with a humanoid body. He was upright quicker, and then threw himself at the animal.

Leading with the shield the deputy smashed the plastoid down with the entirety of his weight on the reptilian skull.

The predator screeched, an alien sound unlike he'd ever heard any animal make.

He didn't pause, but slammed it again.

Bones broke, the beast shrieked, and its legs thrashed wildly, trying to wound him.

Kamick struck a third and final time, bringing his knees up under the shield to maximize the concentrated force.

The dromae let out a frightful croak, and then lay still.

Trembling, and covered in mud, sweat, and gore, Kamick stood. The crash and shriek of the predators told him the battle was not yet ended.

He turned to see Irina, weaponless, surrounded by two of the pack.

She needs her discblade.

He felt the weapon's weight against his back, and a half-mad idea sprung to mind. Come on, you can do this, you just did.

The deputy grabbed the weapon, feeling the sturdy grip of the inner ring, held by the hands of many Zeison Sha, and one maskri woman in particular.

"Irina!" he called, pulled his hand back, whipped it forward, and threw.

Kamick was a good judge of distance. He guessed it close to three hundred and fifty meters, an impossible throw even for a Wookie.

But not for the Force.

Go, go! He urged, imparting everything he had, as long as he could maintain control, onto the weapon.

Irina heard him, and jumped into the air in a long, wide, and high backflip.

The discblade met her at the end, below her feet, and Kamick felt his spirits plummet.

The Zeison Sha kicked out, her foot brushing the weapon.

In midair the metal disk changed direction, spinning now a free buzzsaw, and clove through the flank of the nearest dromae. Then it cut back, shifting again, and took the head off the last before returning to Irina's hand as she landed.

The battle was over by the time Kamick made it back to the others. Everyone was hale, though Cyc sported several scratches on his leg platting, and both Ji and Drado had impressive bloodstains. The Kyuzo grunted something at him as he approached, and then laughed.

"He says humans always do it the hard way," Ji sighed, but she was smiling.

"Often it is only through hardship that we learn the truth," Irina came up to Kamick, looking tired, but satisfied. She lifted her bloody discblade and nonchalantly lobbed it to him.

Kamick knew this was a test, and he reached out, focused, and grasped in the Force.

He caught the discblade ten centimeters above his hand. It wobbled drunkenly, but it remained floating as he marveled at it.

It stayed like that for a good half minute, until Irina called it back to her grasp. She touched only the inner ring, and that just barely, with the tips of two fingers only. "I shall need to clean this off."

"All of us will," Ji declared. "And quickly. These bodies will draw scavengers and insect swarms, and so we need to be away from here as soon as possible. I have no desire to ride through the night, but we must get clear and the banthas will not stay here in any case."

"There is a man by the brook," Kamick said, the brief thrill of victory quickly spent. "He was slain by these creatures. We should do..." He paused, recognizing a lack of knowledge of the customs of the planet. "Whatever is done," he finished weakly.

"The herders and settlers bury their dead in open soil," Cyc explained quietly, showing an unexpected respect. "So that they may nourish the land and future generations."

"We do not have time to dig down to the permafrost," Ji shook her head miserably.

"Lend me a pack bantha and I'll blast open a grave and fill it quickly," Cyc spoke up. "I've done it before."

"Very well," Ji acquiesced easily. She turned to Kamick. "Grab one of the banthas and lead Cyc over, the rest of us will break camp. Unless," she paused, looking at Irina. "Is there some service to be conducted?"

"No," the Zeison Sha answered flatly.

Kamick looked at her in surprise. She wants nothing to do with this, why? But Ji continued giving directions, so he had no chance to ask.

He did not forget however, and looked at Cyc as the droid led the bantha, the pack animal protesting at every whisper of wind that brought a scent of dromae to its nostrils, back down to the creek. "I wouldn't have thought a droid would care much for the dead," the deputy noted, unable to shake the sense of oddness.

"Death is a curious thing," Cyc noted, sounding strangely reflective, with none of his usual rush to explain and examine all angles. "Living things are born to die one day, something I take no part in."

"But droids can be destroyed," Kamick protested.

"We can, but only by idleness or mistake, and we can be preserved far past what destroys a human," the orange-plated machine noted somberly. "My body could be torn apart, and so long as my data storage drives are not lost I could be reconstructed just the same. I can even be uploaded, my entire personality and awareness, into a system, and downloaded later, perhaps tens of thousands of years from now. Given enough resources, I could arrange to never really cease to function."

"Oh," Kamick had never thought of it that way.

"I have not existed so many years as myself," Cyc admitted. "But I can contemplate forever, you cannot. So it seems to me for those of you who face death, with nothing but the barest promise of some later dream, I must show proper respect."

"I see," It was a very rational, logical, and proper conclusion to reach, and so made sense in that way. Otherwise it still seemed strange, and only reminded Kamick that though Cyc might move and talk like a human, he was anything but a flesh and blood being. "Why did Irina seem so disinterested? Is that a Zeison Sha trait?" It was not a religious tradition, he knew that much, she had never mentioned anything of the kind, indeed, the Zeison Sha approach was very practical compared with all he had heard of Jedi mysticism.

"I doubt it," Cyc answered, instantly back to his intellectual self. "It is a Maskri trait. In their belief the dead are reborn as a member of another of the castes, and as such belong to them. Each caste handles only the dead of another caste. It is common for Maskri to extend this taboo into a blanket refusal to deal with the dead of other species in any way, for as they do not know how the being will be reborn, the proper rites are impossible."

"That sounds complicated," Kamick was unsure as to how to react to this revelation. A species divided into three pieces, how odd.

The burial went quickly when they arrived. Cyc buried a quartet of grenades in a pattern, and then triggered then all with a remote detonator, blasting a suitably deep hole. Straightening the body as best they could, the two lowered the man down to the permafrost layer. Then Cyc directed the bantha to make several passes head down, leading with its horns to spread the dirt and rock and debris levelly over the grave.

Kamick placed the man's insect-net hat on top, in case any of his fellows should come searching. Then it was done.

Neither man nor machine felt inclined to speak on the way back. When they returned to camp, however, Cyc brightened, and offered an unexpected remark. "I'll never understand the Force," the droid noted with easy acceptance. "But do ask Miss Irina how she did that trick with the ice, it's got my processors churning."

Trick with the ice? Kamick wondered. Now he would have to ask.

The opportunity came during the long night ride, prodding nervous banthas along and keeping a tight watch for dromaes or any other potential survivors of the dead herder's party.

"The ice?" Irina had seemed surprised when he asked. "Ah, you could not see during the fight," she recalled. "Of course. It is best demonstrated."

They were walking alongside the banthas then, to the disagreement of the deputy's aching feet, so it was easy for Irina to find a small puddle. She swept her hand through it, and then closed her eyes, pulling free a small ball of ice, sharp-edged and fiercely crystalline.

"Wha-? How?" Kamick was flummoxed. Somehow this small demonstration was far more impressive than tossing things through the air.

"Temperature is motion," Irina told him, speaking words as if she was repeating the words of another. "The base activity of atomic particles, governs what we know as heat and cold, which are ultimately simply places on the same scale. Control motion and you can control temperature, it is simply different forms of energy."

"So I could learn to do that?" the deputy could hardly imagine it.

"Possibly," Irina displayed none of the normal confidence she offered when discussing Force abilities. "In theory all sizes of matter can be controlled and manipulated, but most minds have difficulty focusing on such a scale."

"Then how can you do it?" he objected.

"I am blue-caste Maskri," Irina held up a hand. "The outer layer of my skin naturally turns to ice when exposed to sufficient cold. To cause crystallization is second nature to me, just as red-caste conjure flame and green-caste generate vortexes of wind. I have never been able to teach a student who was not blue-caste to do this."

"So I shouldn't get my hopes up then," Kamick said dourly.

"It is still an important lesson," Irina urged, trying to cheer him. "Understanding how to channel temperature as motion in the Force will aid you in protecting your body from the elements, and in dealing with molten materials."

This seemed small solace, but the deputy took it down. Better not get greedy, the ordinary uses of the Force are enough. Besides, he joked inside. Ice is way too cold anyway.

**Chapter Notes**

Irina's statements on Force-philosophy are meant to reflect Zeison Sha belief. Therefore they conflict with Jedi understanding of the Force in some respects. As Lucas has decreed that the Jedi are correct in their views of the Force this means that the Zeison Sha are ultimately wrong, but I think their views are still reasonable.

Dromaes: the word is taken from Dromeosaur, which is effectively what these beasties are, large utahraptor-esque predators. I make no apologies for taking the chance to have a fight with some mean dinosaurs.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 - Upwards**

**Glacier Edge, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

"So they are in there then?" Ji followed the guide's hand with her electrobinoculars. "This isn't going to be easy."

The excavation was at the far end of a massive trench carved in a two kilometer high ice wall. Ji guessed the distance inward to be at least five kilometers. Five completely exposed kilometers.

"They blasted the way open with their great machines," the guide, a local herder with strong anti-Imperial bonafides, noted. The man was not well educated, but he was observant and steady, and Ji trusted his observations.

"We'll never get in that way," Ji shook her head. She could just barely see the tiny figures of people working from this distance. They seemed mostly to be hauling out rubble and dumping it in great slag piles. At least they are still excavating, the noblewoman took solace in that much. Whatever the Empire wanted here, they hadn't found it yet.

Not that anyone could confirm an Imperial presence. The Coldiron Zygerrians were the only beings to be seen, them and their poor captives. They took all the meetings with outsiders, including supply vehicles, new slave shipments, and everything else. If the Empire is here they must be well out of view, Ji noted. She suspected a secret launch pad for shuttles somewhere back over the ice.

"Well, how are we going to get in?" Cyc asked from Ji's right. The droid was taking a heavy role in the observation, partly because he could sit endlessly on the frigid mud and not get frozen, and partly because Irina had co-opted Drado into her endless training exercises for Kamick.

"There must be hidden platform somewhere out over the ice," Ji grumbled. "If only we had an airspeeder that would be the best entry point."

"Well we don't have an airspeeder, and I doubt our chances of sneaking up on something that heavily guarded over the top of the glacier. Thermal imaging will pin us down in an instant," Cyc noted.

"Thermal..." Ji thought of something. "Those ruins are inside ice aren't they? Shouldn't the excavation cause the glacier to collapse atop their heads?"

"Actually, you can run a cold dig in this situation quite easily so long as you make certain to vent the heat through an out-gassing tunnel," Cyc commented dryly.

The two turned to each other. "Out-gassing tunnel?"

"It should be possible," Cyc elaborated. "The standard Imperial design specs are for something far larger than a human needs to fit through."

"I know," Ji acknowledged. "Similar vents have been used by several Zeison Sha in commando attacks. The trick will be finding out where the egress point is. There is a lot of ice to search. An aerial photo would be perfect, I wonder if there's some way to get one."

"The only major aerial surveys on this planet are Imperial," Cyc commented dourly. "And I don't have access, but maybe there's another way. Even with optimum heat channeling there would be spillover at the point the atmosphere mixes with the outflow. That should have created an outflow lake on the surface. Let me see..." The droid pulled out a datapad, searching through for a display. "Got it!" he announced triumphantly.

Ji looked as Cyc turned the datapad toward her. It displayed a false color image of blurry squares, but one was significantly darker than the other. "Is this it?" she wasn't sure exactly what she was supposed to be seeing.

"This is data from an agricultural satellite, it monitors a number of different radiation effects all across the surface," Cyc explained. "It's designed to tell you when the shrubs are leafing out and such, but since water has a different reflectivity than ice, you can spot a lake this way." The droid changed the image. "Looks like our target is right here." A large X appeared in the middle of a much more detailed topographic map of the quadrant.

"Hmm..." Ji studied the map closely. "That's a few klicks in from the edge of the ice, but it's also a ways to the west of the dig site. We ought to be able to make a stealth approach on that location. The lake could be a problem, we'll have to find an inflatable boat or something. Swimming across would make everyone useless for a mission." It would also push their winterized gear too far, Ji knew how cold such water was, it could kill in minutes.

"There's also getting up the ice wall," Cyc noted, pointing back to the glacier.

"Indeed," the noblewoman looked at that massive blue monstrosity to their south. She was used to cliffs, they were a constant on Tianjiang, but not ones made of ice. She turned back to the guide. "Is there a good place to tackle the icewall?" she asked.

"No good comes of going up there," the guide shook his head. "It is a land where nothing can live, if you go there, I cannot help you."

"I see," Ji knew better than to push against the force of superstition. Going above tops of the cliffs on Tianjiang had been equally forbidden. "We will find our own way." She looked at Cyc.

"Climbing giant walls of ice is beyond my programming," the droid shook his head.

"Go and get Kamick, I'll want his advice on this," Ji knew Drado's climbing skills began and ended at trees, though the Kyuzo was up for anything. The deputy, however, had often mentioned the great lava flows of his homeworld, perhaps he would have some experience with this. "I'll head west, keeping a constant distance and looking for a good point of ascent." There must be a gap somewhere, Ji knew.

Kamick joined her less than a hour later, and they walked along the tundra, scanning the icy barrier with electrobinoculars. It was the first extended period of time the two had spent alone in the entire journey, and the noblewoman was struck by the change in the deputy. He is not the same cop I met on Ablerin, she realized. He has kept what he was, but added more. There was something of the frightful capability Xulin had displayed in him now, and a self-assurance that peaked out when he did not concentrate on always learning. Watching him, Ji felt she was learning a great deal about the Zeison Sha she had never been able to see before.

"Ice is like basalt," Kamick said suddenly. "Right?"

"In what way?" she asked, taking the opportunity to follow his vision. There she observed a great gaping crack in the glacial face. Widening her gaze she took in the cause. A great spur of rock rested at the base. The advancing glacier had smashed against it, rending a hole after huge mountains of ice fell free.

"Sharp, slick, and smooth, it won't have purchase or free hand-holds," he answered, sounding depressed. "If that were otherwise I'd think it a good chance."

"We aren't playing at being rangers here," Ji noted calmly. "It's just a matter of getting up, not being sporting about it."

"If you screw into ice, will it hold like rock?" he asked, betraying his lack of familiarity with cold climes.

Ji was not about to make a joke at Kamick's expense, no one chooses their homeworld. "Yes, it will hold."

"Then I suppose this is doable, unless we find a better site," his words said he doubted that. Natural pessimism? Ji wondered. Or the urging of the Force?

"I'll mark it," the squad leader decided. "We'll keep looking till evening, but if nothing better appears we'll have to make plans to challenge this." She stared down at the crack of ice. It stood taunting her, daring them to try.

"Ready!" Ji shouted. "Pull!" She heard the motor roar, the rope tugged hard at her, and she set her legs to churning. They scrapped against the iron-hard ice face, sharp pegs clipping just enough to provide purchase and hold her against the wall of blue as she ran up the icefall.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and also incredibly hard work. Her body strained, muscles burning, obliterating the feel of cold, as she ran, meter by meter up the surface, no chance to stop or breathe, precious momentum too important to waste.

She reached the end of her surge after three hundred brutal meters of assent, all in less than ten minutes, hitting a ledge where a green-skinned hand reached out and pulled her up onto the momentary refugee of an icy platform.

"That was tough," she said, understating the matter incredibly. She dared to look up, seeing the ice extend far, far above. Three hundred meters down, fifteen hundred to go. The prospect of five more assents drained at her will, cold seeping in again, but she forced herself to stay strong, to stand tall before the others. "How long until the next portion is ready?"

"A few minutes," Kamick, also looking up, but for a different reason, noted.

"Let's winch up the gear, and then bring Cyc up," she instructed. "I want to minimize the time spent on these ledges, they are vulnerable." Not to mention cold, she added privately, The winds were becoming fierce already, they would surely be worse the further they ascended, the air whipping up the natural funnel to the top.

Drado grunted in approval, and sent the line down again.

Three hundred meters was their maximum at one go, the full length of Drado's grapple line, the longest piece of rope they had available. This ledge was natural, but if suitable stopping points could not be found, Ji was willing to create them artificially using Cyc's grenades. This is already risky enough. She wanted to minimize time, and above all avoid spending the night on the face.

I never anticipated doing things like this, she thought, following Kamick's vision.

Above them Irina stood perched on the icewall. The Zeison Sha was tied to no rope, line, or other safety measure, not even the boot crampons the others had devised. Instead she was balanced upon a half-meter length of rebar, driven deep into the ice. As Ji watched, the Zeison Sha jumped, leaping impossibly high straight up, close to twenty meters. At the apex of her burst she pulled piece of rebar from a sack on her back, and slammed it into the ice with both hands. The bolt, sharpened at one end, sank halfway into the ice face and quivered, leaving Irina hanging there totally free.

When the shaking stopped the Zeison Sha vaulted up onto the top of this new perch and stood again, catching her breath before she went to repeat the process.

The maskri carried only five of the spikes, taken as surplus from the nearest settlement, at one time. Kamick aided her when she ran out, throwing them up as far as he could till the Zeison Sha could grab and pull them in with the Force.

She is building the path we need, Ji knew, amazed at the process, far faster than she had imagined. Even so, it was a frightful risk the maskri was taking, and the noblewoman could not long look at the Zeison Sha or her head filled with an image of Irina plummeting to her death. Yet the route would have been almost hopeless otherwise.

This is what they do, Ji reminded herself. They perform the impossible, and because they do so, the rest of us have a chance to defeat the Empire. Without the Force we would have no hope against such superior technology and training, with it we can surmount them all.

Cyc came up, and the baggage, and then Irina was done, having found another ledge. Drado reeled in his grapple, then fired upward. The Zeison Sha grasped the bolt, and anchored it into place, taking also the small motor and the rest they had rigged to perform the act safely.

The Kyuzo warrior went first again, his athletic form easily running up the ice. Ji rather thought her old friend found the process thrilling, not the terror she felt. Once the warrior was up he took over operation of the winch from Irina, allowing the Zeison Sha to go on ahead once more.

Kamick followed, and then Ji had to grit her teeth and make the run again, her arms and legs aching, but enduring.

She repeated her commands at the top, and slowly they brought up the baggage, the bundle of tied gear slower than the rest because it came unaided, and put more strain on the winch. She and Kamick worked together to rustle it over onto the ledge.

They set the pile of gear down, and then Ji heard a crack.

She spun, staring at the ice, suddenly realizing how thin this ledge was compared to the last.

It's going to give way! She recognized in abject terror.

Knowing the weight must be relieved, she thought to kick away the gear. No! That'll kill us all! Instead Ji seized upon a single image in her mind.

She drew her pike, telescoping the weapon out immediately, bringing it above her head, and leaping against the wall of cold blue.

Mimicking Irina's motion she slammed the blade in, head first. She had not the strength of the Force, but the ultrasonic vibrations cut a brutal path down. When the weapon had plunged deep Ji thumbed the power switch, turning the vibro function off instantly.

She lay hanging on the ice by the shaft of her weapon, six hundred meters above the ground.

"Ji!" Kamick looked at her in awe. "Are you crazy?"

Her arms, already tired, hurt. She ignored them. "Drado and the baggage go up next," she ordered. "Then I can let go and we can send Cyc and you up." From now on she would go last, not the droid, to make certain there were no more mistakes. "And give Irina the grenades, we make sure the hold is deep enough each time from this point forward."

"Are you going to be alright?" Kamick demanded, unconcerned for her orders.

The pain was mounting, but Ji held herself together. She could not give any sign. "I will endure, keep the process moving."

Above her Irina could go no faster. The Zeison Sha was already trying her abilities to the limit, and so Ji held on to her spear, focusing on her grip on the weapon above all else, blotting out the rest of the world, not daring to think on anything beyond the rule of the weapon, never, ever let go. Let go of your blade and you die! Her instructors had drilled it into her every single day of training, and she held faster to it now, chanting it over and over again in her head, until she was aware of nothing more.

"Gotcha!" Ji felt a strong tug on her waist.

She opened her eyes to see the deputy pulling her down, picking up he small body easily and placing her back on the ledge. "Drado's already up, and so's the baggage," Kamick told her, smiling. "We'll be okay, this ledge can support two easily." He tapped the ice. "It's pretty sturdy stuff."

Eyes unfocused, Ji struggled to readjust to the world around her. "Are we getting Cyc up?"

"Irina's handing down the winch now," he smiled. "Don't worry, you need a break, I'll get Cyc up, take your time."

Ji got back to her feet immediately. "I am fine," she managed to say, though she felt anything but.

"You're barely standing," Kamick shook his head. "No more runs for you, we'll pull you up like the baggage. It shouldn't be a problem, it weighs more than you anyway."

"I am in command!" Ji protested. "I will go up on my own!"

"I'm not obeying an order that has you put yourself in unnecessary danger," Kamick was stone-faced. "You'll go up tied in, or we're all staying here until you're ready for it."

"But-" Ji tried to order.

"Let it go," he told her suddenly. "You just saved us again, that's enough for today."

"If you insist, for safety," Ji demanded, unable to believe what was happening.

"I insist," Kamick spoke sternly. "Now catch your breath. We've still got a ways to go."

Ji settled down to sit on the ice, watching the process go on without her. Is this all right? She wondered. Have I surrendered my authority, my command? She worried, but the look on Kamick's face was adamant. She knew the deputy would not budge. He would tie her up in a sack if he had to, and she had no strength to fight back, not now. So she watched, and was winched along helplessly three times more, until they reached the top.

Kamick woke up during the night, wind whipping over the sleeping bag as he sheltered in a small crevice on the top of the glacier. Drado slumbered in his own bedroll next to him, as did Irina on the other side. The Zeison Sha was exhausted, she had barely been able to stand when they finally reached the top, blinding eating food put in front of her before crawling into bed. Even Cyc was shut down, the droid running on minimal power in order to conserve energy against the cold, not knowing when the next recharge would come.

Spurred by a touch of premonition, the insight he was beginning to acknowledge as the brush of the Force, Kamick turned and saw Ji's sleeping bag was empty. Huh? Where is she? He didn't sense any danger, and there had been no disruption. She had not been mysteriously stolen. Reaching out, focusing through the Force, he managed to sense her nearby. She's outside? Why?

Curiosity banished the specter of sleep, and carefully Kamick wriggled free of his sleeping bag and crawled to the edge of the cramped tent where they were all sheltering.

Oh, by the Force its freezing! There was no true night here, this close to the pole, and with the reflection of the ice expanding all light, but it was still dim, not the blinding glare of midday, and clouds had gathered overhead, making everything gray and frigid. Kamick wrapped his all-temperature grab around his body, but it never seemed like enough. I'm never coming back to another cold planet! He vowed.

Ji was easy to spot, for there was nothing else on the ice.

The small woman stood out in the open, her vibro-pike in hand, going through what could only be combat exercises.

She was smooth and graceful, but her body was strained. Kamick could see she was still exhausted from the ordeal earlier. "What are you doing?" he demanded, walking up to her.

Ji turned abruptly as he spoke, and the look of her face appeared betrayed. "Daily practice," she said stiffly, revealing little. "I had no chance earlier, and it must not be neglected.

The deputy, watching her, for she had not stopped, felt he was back on Smuggler's Run, watching her walk back after facing down Xerweg the Hutt. Why? He wondered. Why does she do this? "Why do you push yourself so hard?" he finally blurted out, unable to stay silent.

The noblewoman looked at him sadly. "I do what I must, that is all I have to give, little though it is."

"Little?" Kamick felt angry somehow. What is wrong with her? "How can you call what you do little? You're incredible!" he threw the words at her, and she stepped back as if struck. "You know almost as much as Cyc, you can pilot a ship, climb mountains, command soldiers, strip weapons, even ride a bantha, and you're worried about the lapses in your fighting for one day of practice?"

"All I have learned to do has taken immense effort," Ji answered, but she stopped practicing to focus on him. "I have little talent for anything, so I must work harder to make up for the lack."

"Why do you think that?" it was a different question than he would have asked before, but he knew now he must learn the truth. "Who are you trying to be? Your mother?"

"No," Ji shook her head. "That is impossible, I could never be her. Since that is so, I must give every bit of my strength to aid the cause of my family."

"I don't understand," the deputy didn't get her. "Haven't you given enough?"

"You are from a common household, you are free," she shook her head. "You would not know what I speak of."

"Then tell me!" Kamick shouted. "Or tell someone, Drado, Irina, even Cyc, I don't care, but you can't be the officer all the time." He'd seen men try, old men in the sheriff's department. They were dried up husks. Irina had shown him the difference. The Maskri had great responsibilities, but she lived, even Drado, devoted to his path of death, was full and vibrant. "Don't give your life to nothing."

"It is not my life," Ji told him solemnly. "But, if you want to know, very well. I am the fourth child, the youngest. My mother hoped when I was young that I would become her heir, head of the Jia Clan. It was not to be, I am not able to take on that role, my talents are minimal." Kamick didn't agree, but he did not object, not when Ji was finally being open. "Instead my mother sent me to the Discblade Alliance, to be her agent, to represent the Jia family."

"Tianjiang has but twelve great landowning clans, and of those Jia is third largest. The family has not even one thousand members, and controls ten percent of the planet's land; five million people," Ji stated these facts calmly, easily, even as Kamick struggled to determine her meaning. "It is my whole family, and all five million who sit beneath us, that I represent in this struggle. I must fight for them all, and be worthy of them. As I am not talented, the only choice I have is to give all I possess, that is my obligation."

It took a long, silent, minute, the cold wind spinning around them, for Kamick to understand what Ji meant. She thinks this is her responsibility? It seemed absurd, but he came back to the number: five million. Ji no doubt believed the person in her post ought to be remarkably gifted, as Drado was perhaps, or even touched by the Force, as he had turned out to be. He bit back what he had intended to say, knowing she would not believe, would never agree with his assessment of her abilities.

Instead he said something different, and far less kind. "Whatever you think, we need you on this mission. No one else can lead it. You've already seen that," Xerweg had made it perfectly clear. "So you need to take better care. It should have been me hanging from that spear today, not you. Don't use yourself up so there's nothing left when we need your skills most."

Her eyes narrowed. "Have I spread myself too thin?" She looked west, asking the sliver of red sunlight on the distant horizon. "I will take your advice under advisement," she told him, and disassembled her pike a moment later. Then she added a brief smile. "Almost a pity you are going to be Zeison Sha, you'd be an excellent Sergeant."

"Thanks," he felt oddly satisfied with the comment. "Now lets get some rest."

Ji nodded, but she still let him return to the tent first.

**Chapter Notes**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 – The Lesser Trials**

**South Pole Ice Cap, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

They picked an arbitrary time to set out across the ice. Ji allowed everyone to sleep a bit longer, mindful of what Kamick had said. It is not yet a critical point, she realized. I need to hold something in reserve for when the time comes. She knew it would, it was inevitable, but the deputy's advice had otherwise been good.

For all the difficulties of the ascent, the location had been well chosen, it was only a handful of kilometers to the tunnel they sought. The weather had also been kind, it was fully overcast, limiting the light, making movement easier and detection less likely. "This is not an attack," she told the group as they set out. "But an aggressive reconnaissance action. We go in, we discover what the Empire intends and where they are heading up the project, and then we get out, ideally without being detected." It was a risky mission, but Ji believed it was possible. She did not think there were many Imperials actually present here, it was mostly the Zygerrians and their slaves. They would not expect attack at this remote position, their security ought to be lax.

The march was not easy. Though the glacier appeared flat from a distance, in reality it was anything but, and there were dangerous crevasses and other obstacles to be overcome as they traveled. Ji did not set a hard pace, trying to save energy for what was to come, and hoping that if any sensors picked them up on thermal scan the operator would just think it scavengers and ignore the image.

Despite the difficulties, all went well, and with only half a kilometer to go to the edge of the meltwater lake, there was no sign of enemy action.

The group was taking a brief rest in the shadow of a large ice shard when the clouds parts, ripped open by the passage of a large vehicle. It broke through the clouds with the promise of doom, a great bulk of white and gray, bristling with weapons, and sickeningly close. Descending from above to bring destruction they could not escape.

"No," Ji breathed. "Not now." It was the worst possible outcome, and terribly unlikely, for there was no regular traffic over the glacier.

"It's the _Ironstar_," Kamick whispered next to her, somehow recognizing the vessel at the extreme distance.

Ji squinted through her shaded goggles, and yes the ship had the outline of the Ironstar's class. "Everyone down!" she ordered. "They may not spot us." She had no way of knowing of the paranoia of Captain Renek Balten, convinced the Empire was out to doom him, and that the Zyggerrian had positioned an orbital satellite to watch the entrance the Empire had chosen to leave unguarded.

"They will find us," Irina spoke with foresight.

Even at that moment the _Ironstar_ turned, and advanced on repulsors, low and hungry, towards the little band.

Will they shoot? Ji wondered. Ship-based weapons were poor shots at individuals, but there was nowhere to hide on the ice. No, she recognized a moment later. They want to take us alive.

_Ironstar_ slowed, pulling up and searching for a wide spot to land.

"Run!" Ji commanded, making a snap decision. "Run for the tunnel!" It was pointless to go back now, they could only go forward.

They ran, and soon there were Zygerrians running after them.

Reckless slavers fired at their barely visible targets, the range impossibly long for their small arms. Ji turned back to see a tall figure waving hands, reprimanding his men. So, the captain is coming in person. She was almost flattered at the attention.

The race commenced in earnest.

Drado pulled up at seemingly random intervals, launching a burst or two back at the small company of slavers in pursuit. The repeating blaster had little chance of causing a wound, at such range, but it blunted the momentum of the foe.

There are no nearby other assets, Ji realized when a threat from the front failed to appear. We have a chance to pass through!

The slavers were driven by rage and adrenalin, but they were not equipped to run on ice, and made up little ground. The mass separated out into smaller groups as the strong outpaced the weak, reducing the threat. Brave and cruel, they are no soldiers, Ji remembered. They should have left the prize and shot.

Then they reached the lake, and Ji knew despair.

"Rut," Kamick encapsulated the situation bluntly.

The outflow lake was not massive, but it was far larger than any of them, even Cyc, had anticipated. The flat nature of the ice had caused it to expand over a vast area at little depth.

"I can see the tunnel," the droid identified, though his voice was filled with panic. "Three hundred meters from here."

"Too far," Ji looked out and knew it to be true. They had brought a small inflatable dingy to cross the expanse, but there was no time to use it now, and no chance to wade across such a distance. She turned back to the oncoming Zygerrians, drawing her slugthrower rifle. "Take what cover you can find, we shall sell our lives as best we may." Strangely, she felt no fear, only a terrible inevitability, that it had come to such a piteous end. I had hoped for better than to die pointlessly fighting slavers on a glacier. I thought I had earned that much.

"No," Ji heard the child-like voice of Irina suddenly object. "This is not the end."

The noblewoman turned her head and watched as the Zeison Sha plunged her hands into the freezing water.

There was a strange crinkling noise, a thousand million shards brushing together and merging as one all at once.

Out from the Zeison Sha's hands stretched a path of ice, a meter wide and extending out into the lake, zigzagging back and forth but always headed unerringly toward the tunnel access.

"Impossible," Ji whispered, looking upon the possibility of salvation and unable to believe it could happen.

She recovered from her astonishment a moment later. This is an opening, seize it! It was the simplest of military doctrines. "Kamick! Cyc! Go! Run!"

They needed no encouragement, charging down that unbelievable, ephemeral pathway even as it grew. "Drado, hold them off!" Ji ordered the warrior, knowing he must go last.

Looking down the noblewoman examined Irina. The Zeison Sha's eyes had rolled back in her head, and she saw nothing. The creation of the bridge took every ounce of her energy.

Even as she watched, the Zygerrians came into range.

Blasterfire filled the air.

Drado fired back, and Ji briefly joined her slugthrower's power to the more potent repeater, enough to break the all out charge and let the slavers realize only six had remained in the first group. A number quickly reduced to four as Drado picked them off. They scattered, going to cracks and crevices in the ice, but they kept firing.

It was time to run, though Ji hated to leave anyone behind, she had to go now and trust the warrior to hold the line behind her. Otherwise they were all doomed.

Drado remained mobile, dashing back and forth, ducking his hat down as a barrier whenever the enemy fired in concert. He was a marvel to behold, sweeping, dodging, and rolling, keeping an ever-growing number of enemies at bay.

But it could not last. Ji ran hard, but she kept looking back, watching the Kyuzo in his desperate struggle. The bridge stretched further and further, but she saw it would not reach in time. Soon the warrior would be overwhelmed. Steam rose all about him from the impact of blaster bolts into the ice already, and then Irina would fall, dooming them all.

There must be a way, Ji searched, thinking, trying for any possibility.

Her eyes passed over the enemy ranks, wondering if there was some vulnerability, something she could do.

The noblewoman's gaze passed across the tall Zygerrian she had seen earlier.

That's it! She realized in desperate inspiration. "Drado!" Ji screamed with all the strength her lungs could muster. "The captain!"

The Kyuzo warrior heard. He stopped his frantic battle, even as a blaster bolt grazed his leg, stood, and pointed directly at the man. "Challenge!" The warrior proclaimed in Huttese.

All firing ceased.

The Zygerrian captain, and his rank became obvious from decorations and poise as he stepped forward, walked out from among his men. "Why should I accept?" he taunted back. "There would seem to be nothing to gain?"

"But there is much to lose!" Ji retorted. "Will the Zygerrians attack only in ambush and in superior numbers? Are you not a superior species? I see no evidence of it here!"

"It would be an act of idiocy to acknowledge such taunts," the captain replied, smiling viciously. "Unlike many inferior species, I know the difference between bravery and foolishness, there is no reason to make such a gesture."

Ji tried to reply, but she had played her best card, and had no better ideas.

Drado, staring at the Zygerrian, pulled forth a pair of his throwing knives. Then he dropped the one in his left hand into the lake behind him. "One hand," he said simply, placing the other behind his back.

"Insolent whelp!" the captain spun about, eyes burning. "I will not stand for such insults!" He strode forward. "I accept your challenge, and I will take that hand as a trophy!"

Drado stepped forward, knife in his right hand. The captain moved to meet him, his men forming a half-circle around the two combatants. The zygerrian drew a long, curved sword, with the characteristic marks of vibro-circuitry. He held the blade with the easy confidence of a proven warrior, and Ji knew fear for Drado's life. The Kyuzo was committed to his promise to one hand now, he would not break such a vow.

Ji backed slowly down the icy pathway, wondering if she was going to watch her valiant ally fall before this brute of a slaver.

Drado flipped the knife to a backhand grip, to strike and stab, and circled right. "Attack," he told the Zygerrian.

"What's your name wretch?" the Zygerrian asked. "Captain Renek Balten wishes to know before he takes your head."

"You are not worth telling," Drado sneered.

Balten raised his sword high and screamed as he charged.

The Kyuzo sidestepped, launching a snap-kick to the captain's midsection.

Balten extended into a roll, dodging under the kick and coming around with a sweeping strike.

Drado blocked, but his slender knife was barely capable of resisting the great blow.

If only he had the other hand! Ji bemoaned the handicap, knowing it would have allowed a counter there.

Back and forth the combatants went, struggling intently. Drado was taller, faster, and more agile, but Balten had the power and his sword gave him greater reach. Both warriors were masters of their blades.

Balten made a hulking overhand attack, and Drado barely managed a block. The force of the blow ripped away his knife, and the Zygerrian seized the opportunity, swinging in again and again.

With incredible agility the Kyuzo weaved backwards, staying a step ahead of the blade, throwing his hat to prevent a deathblow stab.

"You're open!" Balten shouted as the hat flew past, and he lunged, crossing low.

Drado jumped, pulling his knees up.

The sword sliced through the bottom of his boot crampons.

A knife appeared in the Kyuzo's right hand, and he flicked it forward.

The blade embedded in Captain Balten's hip.

"But...one hand," the captain protested, falling to his knees.

"One hand," Drado spoke calmly. "Not one knife." he pulled out another knife.

"I surrender!" Balten said suddenly, dropping his sword. "You win, please, mercy!" It was a ridiculously self-serving gesture. Ji felt contempt for the slaver, quivering pathetically on the ice, red hair spilling raggedly about him, but also noted his intellect. He is wise enough to appeal to the better nature of our morals, she recognized.

Drado looked down at the Zygerrian. "Mercy is for humans," he said solemnly. The knife flashed in and out.

The captain collapsed to the ice, blood pooling beneath him.

"You nujit!" a Zygerrian screamed. "You're dead!"

"I doubt that," an unexpected, high-pitched, voice intruded.

Ji's gaze was torn from the battle. The bridge of ice was complete.

Irina stood up.

"Run warrior!" the Zeison Sha shouted.

Drado ran.

The lake roiled, and great fountains of freezing liquid burst into the air.

Ji also ran, charging to the end, to the dark out-gassing port that was their one hope of safety.

Irina jumped out into the lake, ice instantly hardening when she touched the surface of the water. She raised her hands and icy darts flew from beneath the surface, deadly torpedoes claiming Zygerrian lives. A storm of water blasted around her, dissipating all blaster bolts ere they came close. She jumped again, and again throwing the enemy off as Drado made a run for safety. The ice crumbled away behind the Kyuzo's steps.

The Zygerrians were not fools, and they knew the way to fight Zeison Sha. They gathered together, concentrating their fire to overwhelm the Maskri's defenses, but it was too late. She was already retreating, falling back from their fire just in time, waves of water blocking their view.

She landed at the lip of the tunnel, wobbled once, and then fell.

Ji and Kamick reached out and caught her.

"Tried to...do...too...much," she whispered, barely clinging to consciousness.

"I suggest we go for it," Cyc, looking down into the vast expanse of ice tunnel, argued.

"Yes," Ji said. "No time for separation, everyone slide!"

Zygerrian blasterfire chasing them, they plunged into darkness.

Jia Ji felt the ice tear at her clothing, ripping and abrading as she skidded and slid down the slick sides of the tunnel. It was a terrifying sensation, even as she gained speed rapidly. In the dim light of the abyss she caught glimmers of orange ahead, Cyc had taken the lead due to his greater weight and limited points of contact. Kamick was somewhere above, cradling the semi-conscious Irina in his grasp, while Drado slid along beside her.

"Rut!" Cyc's voice could suddenly be heard, and Ji was struck by the incongruity. She'd never heard the machine swear before. "There's...break!" The automaton's voice was lost in the wind.

Then Ji saw what the droid meant. A crack had opened in the ice, collapsing away from the tunnel. They were going to fall!

There was less than a second to act. Ji slammed her hands down, but she could find no purchase.

The dark chasm opened beneath her, and down she plunged.

Got to arrest! The noblewoman knew. She reached down, blind in the dark, and grabbed her pike. She did not telescope the blade, but shot out the spearhead, then struck it into the ice.

It pulled, and then bounced free.

She did it again, and again, and then finally it stuck fast, cutting a jagged path down, pulling against the ice.

Slowing, slowing, and finally Ji stopped, hanging in midair on a jagged crack of ice.

"Report!" she demanded. Was anyone else alive?

"I'm down here!" She hear Cyc answer from somewhere below her. "Minor damage but I'll be fine."

"Ready," she could hear Drado above. The Kyuzo sounded tired, but otherwise stable.

"We're okay," Kamick called, this time from below. "Irina's collapsed, but she's unhurt. I think we're on the bottom."

"Light a glow rod," Ji ordered, joy spreading through her. They were all alive despite the disaster above. Irina had done the impossible, and they had been saved. The situation was still bad, but she would find a way to get everyone out. She would find it.

Kamick turned on a glow rod, and Ji took the measure of everyone's position.

The deputy was indeed on the bottom, resting on a floor that was not ice, but some kind of stone. Cyc hung a mere two or three meters above him, the droid had clawed into the ice with his metal fingers. When he realized this, Cyc dropped down to the floor immediately. Ji's own position was somewhat more precarious, she was a good five meters up at least, and there was little below her. Drado was that distance again above, hanging on a spire of ice separated from the main wall.

"Drado, can you make the descent?" she called to the warrior.

The Kyuzo replied in the affirmative, clipping his grapple to the spire and bouncing down the wall. Ji grabbed hold when the warrior passed by her own position.

The ground had never felt so comforting.

Drado is tired, Ji had rarely seen the Kyuzo in such a state, but the fight with the captain had taken much out of him. Irina was unconscious, and the Maskri looked terrible, wan and drawn. She did not relish what had to happen next. "We cannot stay here," Ji told them, and the looks upon the faces where exactly as she expected. "They may send someone down, or even a probe droid." A respulsorlift-equipped unit could reach them easily. "We'll rest as soon as we can find some safety."

Looking at Irina she turned to Kamick. "Can you carry her for a time?"

"I'll manage," the deputy acknowledged.

"Very well then," Ji had to be satisfied with that. "Cyc, I believe we are in the ruins, so lead the way."

**Chapter Notes**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 – Hints of the Lost**

**Desga Ruins, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space **

**1 BBY**

Cyc led them forward by glow rod light. Ji followed, and Kamick took up a position behind the small woman, carrying another of similar stature. Irina was not heavy, but holding her in place of his backpack was awkward, and he kept shifting the insensible maskri against him. Drado brought up the rear.

The ruins stretched on in narrow halls with tall ceilings, an unusual construction style. This area seemed almost completely empty, nothing but gaping vaults of stone filled in with great towers of intruding ice. Kamick did not think the ruins much damaged by the passage of twenty thousand years, only empty, barren.

"I believe this area must have been used for storage and loading," Cyc theorized from in front of them. "Possibly for some kind of light industry."

"The Empire has not been here," Ji noted, and everyone took some solace in that.

"Indeed they haven't," the droid agreed. "They would have begun excavations on the other side of the complex from us, and whatever they are looking for cannot be in this section. We need to find some indication of where to go," Cyc explained. "Look for a small room, a maintenance office or the like."

They passed into the largest room yet, stepping over a great icy pillar. "It's a maze in here," Kamick was reminded of some of the freakish geological formations created by the volcanic deposition of Lavestral, only much colder. The ice reflected the soft light of the glow rod in a thousand directions, creating strange fragmented patterns that lent a surreal timbre to the ruins.

"Good," Ji amended. "It will be harder to find us."

The room had to be at least twenty meters by ten, a sizable internal space, but it was empty.

"This facility must have been deliberately abandoned," Cyc determined, echoing the deputy's thoughts. "Which would make sense, glaciers don't exactly advance at a running pace."

Kamick spun around, looking up to the vaulting roof, now covered on the inside with a thin film of ice. What would it be like? He wondered. To know the ice was coming for you and there was no way to stop it, no way to flee.

Drado interjected a short comment.

Ji twisted about. "There is something printed on the wall above that exit," she pointed to a small archway leading out of the chamber.

They shuffled over on the ice-caked floors, enthusiasm rekindled. It was a message written in yellow script Kamick could not recognize, being completely foreign to his limited recognition.

"Do you read the Desga language?" he asked Cyc, wondering if they were doomed.

"The language of the Desga colonies is actually Basic," the droid couldn't help but sound smirky. "The original colonists came from the Core Worlds, probably Alaskan or a world within its cultural influence if the design evidence from known colony ships is any indication. The language divergence of the current Desga species block occurred, like the radiation of the species themselves, over a great expanse of time."

"But the alphabet is wrong," Ji commented.

"Actually, it's quire correct for the time period," Cyc objected. "The Aurebesh alphabet did not spread widely until the Alaskan conflicts began some three thousand years after the Desga colonizations. This script is long since rendered a historical artifact, but I can read it easily."

"So what does it say?" Kamick demanded, not wanting to let the droid get too far off track.

"Patient Rooms, Level One," Cyc translated evenly. "It seems this is a hospital."

"What would anyone want with a twenty-thousand year old hospital?" Kamick wondered. "Ancient medical tech is ridiculously outdated."

"If the intent is to develop a bioweapon," Cyc offered. "As we theorized, then the goal may be to locate genetic material samples or possibly a functioning database. Such a record could serve as an invaluable baseline to compare against subsequent evolutionary changes. With the actual Desga Source unknown, an early stage colony would be the best template."

"I thought the those colonists were all humans," Ji objected. "Surely twenty millenniums have not changed us so much."

"That is true," Cyc led them on through to the patient wing, passing by a seemingly endless series of small rooms. "But the initial population was not representative of humanity as a whole. The human species has vast genetic diversity, you and Kamick are excellent examples." The deputy looked at Ji and felt he had to admit the droid's point. In many ways, if Irina's hair was dyed brown, her features would seem closer to his own than Ji's. "So there was a substantial founder effect, and a wise researcher would wish to account for that."

The deputy had no idea what a founder effect was, but he suspected Cyc knew what he was talking about. "Why did they need so many rooms?" he asked aloud. "This seems like a lot, especially if there are additional levels."

"A fair point," the droid looked into one of the rooms. A pair of empty cots, their matting frozen solid long ago, sat side by side, with some kind of monitoring device between them. "I suspect it had something to do with the sleeper ship transition. Long term carbonite hybernation can cause serious persistent health difficulties. It may have tied up significant resources in the first few generations. Now that I think about it," Cyc added with excitement. "Devotion of such a massive amount of production to health needs might explain why technology levels declined precipitously on most of the colony worlds."

"Save the grand theories," Ji admonished. "Our enemies are here, and we need to discover what they want."

"What do we do then?" Kamick accepted Ji's logic, but the situation wasn't exactly favorable. "We aren't exactly an army."

"We destroy it," the noblewoman said flatly.

"But the knowledge!" Cyc protested, turning and standing in front of Ji. "You can't destroy it!"

"Better it be lost here than fall into the hands of the Empire and claim billions of lives," Ji was adamant. "As it is we can only hope to reach what the Empire seeks before they do. I am relying on your expertise Cyc, do not disappoint me."

"Damn your miserable logic!" the droid shot back, but raised no further objections.

They reached the end of the long hallway a few minutes later. It was little less sterile than those before it, but there was a small monitoring console protruding from the wall.

Cyc, giddy with excitement, ran over immediately. "Hmm...inactive, no surprises, but there's current in the base wiring."

"Meaning there's power somewhere in the system?" Kamick reasoned. He'd had to learn a fair bit of practical electronics growing up in the ash desert outback.

"Exactly," Cyc nodded. "That means the Empire must have powered up another area of the complex. Still, if there's power somewhere I ought to be able to turn this unit on and jury-rig some access. Then I could pull in what this console lets me crawl into."

"How long will that take?" Ji assessed.

Cyc looked back at the console, the droid was positively shivering in anticipation. "Well, rigging up a temporary jolt of power to kick-start the connections should be easy. The tricky part will be interpreting the data network of a twenty-thousand year old system. I mean, I can do it, but nothing's instantaneous in slicing."

"Then we will rest while you work," Ji announced. "Assuming you do not need downtime as well?"

"I'm fine," Kamick doubted Cyc would have answered the question honestly, but there was little reason to doubt the droid. "Running around on ice doesn't tire me out."

"Then I declare six hours for rest," the noblewoman ordered. "Make the best of it, for it shall surely be busy after that. However," she turned to the droid, face stern. "If there is any sign that a thorough search is being made of this place, wake us immediately. I suspect we have some time, the Zygerrians will not be quick to explain the death of their captain to their local comrades or whatever Imperial troops reside here, so confusion works in our favor, for now."

"Got it," Cyc acknowledged.

Kamick set Irina down against the wall, doing his best to wrap the Zeison Sha in her bedroll. The minute Ji had allowed for rest he discovered just how tired he truly was, and despite the hard ice-coated flooring, was asleep within moments.

"It seems it is time you awakened," Kamick was pulled from sleep by the gentle voice of Irina. He rolled over to see the Zeison Sha standing over him, looking once again hale and capable.

"You look a lot better," he noted happily.

"Yes," she agreed, smiling. "And it seems I have you to thank for much of it, carrying me all this way."

"The least I could do," he could see her heroics on the lake once again, water flashing about, ice cutting down Zygerrians. "What you did at the lake was incredible."

"Water can be a dangerous weapon," she admitted with a smile. "Such is the lesson of Phant the Torrent, who I once met."

Kamick knew that name, an Epherment Zeison Sha with an eye-popping bounty on his head. He was a great hero in the resistance; though a surly one.

"Regrettably, my strength in the Force is not enough to use such techniques properly, and I went too far," Irina continued sadly.

"Why?" the deputy questioned. "Why should using the Force drain you like that? It's not like there's a physical need involved."

"But there is great mental strain, and that wears down the body all the same," Irina spoke grimly. "If you tried to plot a hyperspace jump by hand wouldn't that exhaust you? It is much the same, and the more of the Force you use the more strain you feel." She patted her much stained blue dress. "I have never been physically strong, so I must use the Force for more, and it has its costs."

"I think I get it," he admitted, though he was not completely sure. He pulled his body free of the bedroll, noting Ji and Drado standing by Cyc. "Did you get the console working?" he asked the droid.

"I did," the droid sounded quite pleased. "And I managed to pull down a great deal."

"Oh?" Kamick sensed Cyc had made some kind of major coup.

"You see the hospital datanet it a closed system, if there ever was anything for it to connect to it's long gone," Cyc spoke quickly, voice filled with excitement. "But someone in the Empire made the assumption that because the system was closed it was completely secure, and patched their own datanet into it to optimize their crawler functions."

"So we can interpret everything of theirs?" What kind of idiot would be that lax with security? A Zygerrian idiot, he suspected.

"Not everything," Cyc noted, clearly disgruntled. "I can swim through the Coldiron's system easily, but the Empire, and yeah, it's definitely the Empire everyone, has all the usual security protocols in place. Ultimately I can only see what they've directly dumped into the system. There's not been any time to slice into more."

"Save the Empire for a moment," Ji held up a hand. "I want to know more about this facility."

"Right," Cyc turned around, and took out the hand-held holoprojector he'd brought along the whole way. It now projected an image of a large building, two great rectangular pieces connected by a small spar in the middle. "This hospital, and it's named after some unpronounceable local, so who cares, was designed in two different wings. We're in the western wing," he indicated a point on the projection. "That was designed for everyday operations, normal medical procedure and so forth. The area where we dropped in," he indicated a point on the extreme end. "Was used as supply storage, temporary offices, and for meetings. We came out on the middle level of five. The bottom is a trauma ward, the second level is for examinations and surgery, and then there are three levels for patients above that."

"Why is this level one then?" Irina questioned.

"The first two levels are labeled Lobby and Mezzanine," Cyc grumbled. "Archaic nomenclature absurdity. Anyway," the droid went on quickly, excitement infectious. "The Zygerrians started their excavation in the east wing, which was used for research for a wide variety of medical projects. The data is all corrupted, unfortunately, but I suspect this was the big medical center for the whole colony."

"How is it the excavation has taken a long time?" Ji wondered practically. "It seems easy enough to come in from this end, and many of the halls are empty."

"Glaciation is an uneven beast," Cyc shrugged. "It looks like damage on the other end was much more extensive. Also, the ice is considerably shallower on that side, so they didn't have to blast in as far. What is clear is that the east wing was a high-security operation, and I bet it was fully sealed when the place was abandoned. That's a lot to cut through."

"So where's the Empire?" Kamick wondered. That was the important thing.

"Well, the Zygerrians are everywhere," the droid answered. "I suspect the Empire may have just ordered everything dug out to keep them in the dark and busy, which is another reason for the extensive excavation. I can't say exactly where the Empire is, but the restored power is concentrated to a specific part of the complex." he pointed to the very bottom of the holoprojection. "The east wing has a sub-basement level. I thought the Empire would be focused on the archives on level four, but it seems they're trying to get all the way down to some kind of secret lab that was based there."

"So that's our objective," Ji decided. ""How do we get there?"

"There's not a lot of data on that sub-level," Cyc answered, disappointed in himself as he spoke. "I think they wanted it contained because they were working with dangerous pathogens or volatile chemicals, but I can't be sure. The Empire's gone in the hard way, just smashing down from above the upper levels, but I think we can play a different game." The droid pointed to the small connecting section between the two wings. "This area is a security checkpoint between the two wings, but it was also an entrance in its own right, in addition to the access each wing has. I suspect there was an expedited entrance for those using the sub-basement regularly. That's our way inside."

"One problem solved," Ji said with satisfaction. "Now the hard part. How do we get out?"

"Well," Cyc rotated the diagram. "I can't say anything for certain, but if the layouts in the two wings are the same, and there's every reason to believe that they are, then there should be an emergency fire shaft here." He outlined a point on the diagram. "That can be taken all the way up to areas that have currently been excavated."

"So why hasn't the Empire used it to go down?" Kamick wondered. It seemed an obvious access point.

"It's not large enough to permit anything wider than a human body," the droid explained churlishly. "So they couldn't bring down much in the way of equipment. I suspect that it has been used, but not recently, and there's liable to be little security. In any case, exiting from that point puts us on the 'roof' of the hospital, which is the base level for the current excavation."

"A beginning," Ji accepted, though with her typical controlled non-reaction. "But how does that get us through slavers and Imperials and to a craft useful for escape purposes?"

"Won't we be swarmed under?" Kamick added, thinking this was a suicidal plan.

"I told you I have access to the Zygerrian's systems," Cyc scoffed. "I have embedded plans to trigger all kinds of alarms on the other side of the excavation, as if someone were entering from the front, the moment we emerge. The confusion should allow us time to escape." He rotated the hologram again. "There are two vehicle storage locations. The first is a refueling station used by the Zygerrians, and contains a number of cargo airspeeders and some faster vessels. The second is a launch pad on the glacial surface used by the Empire. Currently the only vehicle there is a Lambda-class shuttle."

"Interesting," Ji commented. "Perhaps there are only as many Imperial personnel present as the shuttle can accommodate, though there could be additional soldiers."

"Whose ship do we go after?" Kamick wondered. He thought a Lambda would be a better catch than some random airspeeder.

"The Zygerrians," Ji's decision was immediate. "The Empire would not leave a shuttle unguarded, in addition to violating their normal procedures, the Discblade Alliance has a history of stealing exposed ships. A single pilot could easily lift off and kill us all with the vessel's weaponry. The Zygerrians offer greater opportunity. In a crisis they will not fall back to their ships, as the empire would, but they will rush to protect their most valuable assets; the slaves."

Explained this way, Kamick had to agree, it made a dark form of sense. Despite this, he was worried. "What if the Empire uses the shuttle to pursue us, or launches fighters?"

"The latter is more likely," Ji agreed with his assessment, causing the deputy to feel a small sense of pride. He was learning something of military operations at least. "The ideal situation is to ditch somewhere in the boreal forest surrounding Rakjas Spaceport and then sneak back into the city, though we may have to pick a more distant settlement." She gave the slightest of frowns. "This operation is fraught with risk, and I dislike it, but it seems there are no better choices. Ultimately, once we break free to the excavation it will be a mad dash to a ship, with no stopping for anything. Everyone must be prepared to face that possibility."

She's talking about leaving someone behind, the deputy recognized. It was a terrifying thought, but as he imagined a storm of fire and dozens of unexpected obstacles he had to acknowledge it would be all too easy for one person to fall wounded or be cut off by enemy fire. Yet to turn back would only doom them all. "Let's get on with it then," he said, and caught affirmations in the eyes of the rest. "There's no point in standing around down here and waiting for them to flush us out."

"Indeed," Ji accepted this, though he could not tell if the noblewoman possessed any real confidence in this plan. "Everyone is ready to go? There will be no turning back after this."

The others all nodded.

"Then leave the excess equipment behind," Ji commanded. "Matters will be decided before we have the chance to use it. Mobility is paramount now."

There was much shedding of bedrolls, heavy cable, climbing gear, and more, as they stripped down their allotments to weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, rations, and little else. This is it, Kamick realized as he discarded the excess. We're going in and we may not come back out. Ji remained calm, but he doubted she thought their chances good. Don't think about it, the deputy told himself. Stopping the Empire is what matters now.

Cyc led the march down the two floors, sliding over an ice-covered ruined staircase. They paused to cut through a half-meter thick wall of ice before reached the first sealed door in the complex.

It was not the stone used in the majority of the construction, but metal, some kind of alloy no one recognized. Though sturdy, it was not strong enough to resist sustained blows from Ji's pike.

The security checkpoint was far more confined than any of the other spaces, which had not been especially spacious in design. It was a near-maze of chest high walls clearly designed to channel beings past myriad guard posts. The sense of abandonment was less here. Tables and chairs, now icy shells, remained in place, and several pieces of ruined scanning equipment. All had the primitive, bulky look of ancient technology, and Kamick could make no sense of them. Ji prodded Cyc along, keeping the droid from distractions to much protesting.

A set of stairs led down to the basement level, pausing before reaching the east wing in a strange room. They passed down a good three meters below a raised platform, accessed by a single flight of stairs wide enough for only one person to ascend at a time. Beyond those stairs was a massive sealed cube structure.

"Hmm...there's nothing in my databanks to explain this," Cyc noted, clearly put out. "But it's got to be some kind of security system."

"I doubt it still works," Kamcik shrugged, and headed up.

The cube had extremely thick walls, and the inside was lined with some kind of shiny metal. It was extremely dark within, as if the light of the glow rod somehow ended at the door. He saw a large sealed door at the other end, only a few meters distant.

When he stepped inside the light faded further, and the air was terribly still.

The others followed.

Awfully quiet, he thought after a moment. Is Cyc with us?

The droid was right behind them, furiously examining the walls.

I can't hear anything! Kamick realized in shock. The continuous metal echo of the machine's footsteps was gone.

"Something's wrong!" He shouted, or tried to, the words vanished when they left his lips, sucked into nothingness.

Shortly the others recognized this oddity, even as Ji and Drado approached the far door, struggling to get it open. Kamick looked at Irina, but the Zeison Sha seemed even more confused than the rest. Reaching out to the Force he discovered a strange, alien feeling he could not place. Something is...distorted...here. He had no better way to describe it.

Ji attempted to strike the far door with her pike, only to stare at the weapon in surprise.

It's not vibrating, Kamick saw, there was no ultrasonic energy empowering the blade at all.

Drado pulled his blaster next, and fired.

The bolt vanished from view before ever hitting the door.

What is going on? Kamick wondered, and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow.

Wait, sweat? He hadn't broken a sweat hardly at all on this planet, not unless he was exercising like mad. Is it heated in here?

Cyc was nearest to the deputy than the others. The droid rushed up to him and grabbed him suddenly, gesturing wildly.

When Kamick's blank puzzlement showed on his face the droid did something odd. Reaching out with a metal finger he clawed into his orange chest plate. The motion should have screeched terribly, but as it was it simply left a tiny, but discernible, set of marks.

Run!

Kamick, having no other recourse, obeyed the command.

Irina, sensing his distress, turned, and echoed his command through the Force. _Run!_

The deputy bolted for the exit, suddenly feeling heat blossom throughout the room, rolling off the walls in waves. He ignored the stairs, jumping down, trusting in the Force to guide his steps and help him land.

Cyc tumbled through next, clattering down the steps, then Drado, leaping off the far wall and sliding to the ground in stylish fashion. Ji simply ran out, and there was a massive burst of yellow-orange light inside the cube.

Irina flipped out last, turning back as she did and raising her hands high.

The air within the cube exploded into fire.

It's like seeing the birth of a star, Kamick reflected in a combination of awe and terror. Heat blasted back out at them all, and he felt burning on his cheeks.

Irina stood before the blast, and pulled the wind to channel it up, high toward the ceiling, saving them all hideous burns from the feedback.

As soon as it appeared, the blast of searing heat was gone, dissipated to nothing, and all within the cube was still again.

"What was that?" Kamick demanded, trying to find some way to categorize such an extraordinary occurrence.

"A security system," Ji noted dryly. "This explains a great deal regarding the length of the excavation."

"It does indeed," Cyc took up the charge. "It's a very stout system, and not easily disabled," the droid went on with excitement. "You'd have to blast the device apart piece by piece to fully negate the effect. It's otherwise fully passive and self-contained, produced by the walls themselves."

"How does it work?" Irina, unusually curious, questioned.

"It appears to absorb almost all excess light, sound, and other energy emissions, storing it until some critical threshold is reached, whereupon it is radiated back and causes the spontaneous combustion of the air inside the chamber," Cyc told them all. "An ingenious technology, it makes use of heretofore unknown properties of carbonite. Most interesting indeed."

"Unknown properties?" Kamick blurted. "How can twenty thousand year old tech be unknown?"

"Carbonite is used only for specialized industrial purposes today," Cyc answered. "And the science is considered a dead end, there have been no major breakthroughs, or even significant study in millenniums. The reality is, for almost all applications there are better materials or options. This kind of effect, for example, could be achieved in a much smaller and more efficient fashion using force fields. However, there is evidence that the Desga source world had abundant carbonite resources, and in the course of their extensive use of it in sleeper ship colonization they developed a number of unexpected breakthroughs."

"Very informative," Ji commented, not sounding impressed. "But the key is how we get through now. Unlike our enemies, we do not have heavy equipment available to destroy this piece by piece."

Cyc shrugged. "I couldn't say. There is a very stout door on the other end, and its in a closed system, with power lost. I can't open it electronically, and the security measure makes physical force very difficult. Perhaps Irina can rip it free with the Force?"

"I have made the attempt," the Zeison Sha noted with regret. "I did not succeed, but I wonder, how is the door anchored?"

"Four large bolts," Ji replied. "Two to each side."

"And this defense system, it merely absorbs energy?" the Zeison Sha continued her line of questioning.

"Exactly, and at a really high rate too," Cyc couldn't help but complement the novel design.

"But the door is not made from durasteel, it is some other, comparatively primitive alloy?"

"It appears so," Cyc nodded. "With the exception of carbonite, Desga metallurgy is actually less impressive than the twenty thousand year old baseline."

"Then perhaps I can freeze the bolts," Irina explained. "Since that is to simply take energy away."

"That would weaken the door, not break it down," Ji commented cautiously.

"As you may recall the system does not power up immediately," Cyc interjected. "It should be possible to smash through in time."

"We might as well try it," Kamick voiced his support. "Otherwise we're pretty well stuck."

"Do it then," Ji told Irina.

The Zeison Sha walked up the steps, stopping at the edge of the security cube. She raised her hands and focused intently, and the deputy could feel the energy gather around her. She did not move, or speak, or say anything, and breathed slow and steady, careful.

There was nothing for any observer to see, no changes, no adjustments, just the lone woman standing there, exerting her will. Kamick could at least feel the Zeison Sha's exertions, while the others were completely blind. He watched Irina closely, trying to understand what she was doing, how she was moving reality to steal energy away from the substance of the doorframe and transfer it elsewhere.

Sweat broke out on the Maskri's face, and her expression tightened, but still she said nothing, and everyone waited in tense silence.

At last Irina spoke a single world. "Now," she ordered.

"Drado!" Ji commanded.

The Kuzo burst up the stairs, launched from a coiled spring, vaulting over the Zeison Sha and across the room in great bounds. He slammed into the door with a massive, flying kick, sending all the power he could muster against its weakened struts.

The door, a massive block of metal, went flying down the far hallway. Watching from the other side of the chamber, it made no sound, an eerie, silent vision of destruction.

"Move!" Ji ordered, surging forward. "We've got to get through now!"

The deputy agreed, and followed the small woman. There was no telling what the security device would do now that it had been breached.

Everyone charged, sprinting through the shattered portal to reach the opposite side.

They arrived in a small antechamber, but Ji, mindful of the potential explosion brewing behind led them aside into the next room.

The burst of light passed all by, scorching only empty stone, as the intruders discovered the laboratory.

**Chapter Notes**

Cyc's statements regarding the origins of the Aurebesh alphabet are canonically correct, though what prior scrips may have looked like I have no idea.

The founder effect is an evolutionary term. It refers to the differences between the genetic makeup of the group that founds a new population in a isolated location (usually an island), and the genetic makeup of the entire source population from which they came. It is generally considered a powerful driver behind speciation.

The Desga-derived uses of carbonite are by own invention, but it seems reasonable to me that a metal used to preserve things more or less indefinitely with precise controls of the state would have some unusual energetic properties.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 – Whispers of the Past**

**Desga Laboratories, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

They did not abandon this place, Ji realized instantly. Whatever the fate of the civilian wing of the hospital, for some reason these labs had been left for glaciers to pass over and smash. She guessed secrecy had demanded the sacrifice, but there was no real way to grasp the reasoning of twenty-thousand years removed minds.

The equipment was mostly degraded past all recognition, destroyed by the initial process of freeze and thaw as the glaciers came over the point, and then grasped by ice in the terrible chill that followed. Even those pieces in a state of reasonable preservation had no resemblance to anything in Ji's experience. Medical technology had changed so much in the hundreds of generations since, and the Desga had likely been removed from the galactic standards even of their own time.

"This place," Irina was the first to speak. "It is quiet now, but the echoes of grim origins remain."

"Yeah," Kamick echoed, though less detailed. "Not nice."

Could the Force-users detect some strange echo of intent? Ji wondered. Cyc had speculated this was a lab for advanced medical research. The noblewoman knew such concepts were often pushed by military minds, and in most societies the military tended to stretch the boundaries of ethical science. It would certainly help explain the Imperial interest. "No doubt it would be an advance possible only by breaking the rules of Republic civilization that would be most likely to remain novel after such a long timespan," she told the others, and caught Cyc nodding. The droid recognized what she meant.

"Power has been restored to this level," Cyc pointed out several consoles with a few flickering lights remaining. "But this equipment is not longer useable. Still," he grabbed a small bucket by the side of an ancient gurney. "Time does not degrade stable alloys. There is carbonite residue here, couple that to the security system we just passed through, and I suspect the experiments had something to do with the use of carbonite."

"Freezing people?" Kamick scoffed mildly. "Doesn't seem all that useful."

"Who knows what they were working on," the droid replied, sounding both excited and nervous. "The use of carbonite in conjunction with living beings was little studied under the Republic, because of the negative symbolism associated with freezing people against their will. Little research was ever done. We'll have to try and find equipment in a better state to figure out what these labs were intended to discover."

"I suspect the Empire can lead us to our objective," Ji recognized. If they had not already found the best location, they must be close. "Can you locate them?" She asked Cyc.

"Using the terminals here, no," the droid shook his head. "But I can detect thermal gradients, and they should be directly to the west of us at the strongest point. Not more than fifty meters in a straight line."

That close? Ji was startled. She kept her body controlled, but gave a rapid set of orders. "We may encounter enemies at any time. Weapons ready, and move in combat formation from now on. I want to maintain the advantage of surprise as long as possible. Drado take point." She unlimbered her slugthrower rifle and prepared for combat.

It did not take long to find the enemy.

They passed through another dissipated lab, and there, on the other side of a thin wall of ice, could be seen the silhouettes of Imperial Army Troopers. Surprise is paramount, and so is stealth, Ji recognized. She suspected that the Empire had not increased security this deep within the complex, believing they were either dead or still outside somewhere. If they could maintain that illusion as long as possible, it could only benefit them.

This pair of guards needed to be taken down quickly and quietly. Unfortunately the wall of ice was not going to make it easy to accomplish. Drado was their best at stealth attacks, but unfortunately he had no way to reach through a major barrier of this kind. The noblewoman looked back at the others, assessing the best option. "Irina," she whispered. "If I cut a small slice through, can you take out the guards?"

"Yes," the maskri answered, though unhappily. Ji recalled briefly that many Zeison Sha disliked killing unaware enemies, something to do with the Force. Well, she will have to swallow her concerns for now. She pulled out her pike.

Once I slice the ice, the vibration will be audible on the other side, she knew. The guards faced the other way, but they would react quickly. "Be ready if this fails," she told the others.

Then she struck.

Slice in, then across, drop down, then back, a simple, wide gouge that would accommodate a discblade.

The weapon came through an instant after she was done, just as the Imperials turned.

Irina's weapon sliced the heads clean off both, at level height. Bodies crumpled to the floor.

Ji, never stopping, launched into a wide cross cut, slashing open a rough doorway but not destabilizing the ice entirely.

Drado and Kamick dashed through to secure the opposite side. Reclaiming her rifle, Ji followed, bringing up the rear.

The Kyuzo rounded the corner before she could get there, advancing into the next lab space.

"Hey!" there was an aborted shout, then gurgling.

Ji shifted around to see a man in a civilian's lab uniform lying slumped over a half-preserved table. His research was stained with blood leaking from the knife in his throat.

The noblewoman didn't waste any time mourning the technician. He was Imperial, and complicit in their policies. They could not spare the unarmed here, not without sacrificing their own lives. Instead she asked a different question. "Cyc, what does that device do?"

"Some kind of scan or measurement," the droid was equally unperturbed by the technician's fate, promptly sliding the corpse to the floor and casually flipping the used knife back to Drado. "Analytical I believe," he added. "Designed to measure the composition and properties of various substances."

Verbose, but hardly informative, Ji noted, disappointed. "Can you glean anything else?"

"From this?" Cyc shook his head. "No," then he reached down to the fallen technician, pulling something from a pocket of the lab-coat. "Now from this," it was a simple, everyday model datapad he held up triumphantly. "Perhaps a good deal more."

"Someone is coming," Irina interjected urgently.

"Take cover, now," Ji hissed at the others, adding to Cyc. "Find out the heart of this and plot a route there!"

She turned back to the hall where the troopers had stood guard. Multiple sets of booted feet could be heard converging on the position. Standard Imperial squad size is eight men and one sergeant, Ji knew. She suspected the response team consisted of one such unit. That gave the enemy almost two to one numbers, but her group had a Zeison Sha. The noblewoman figured they held the upper hand.

Ji lay kneeling behind a twenty-thousand year old cabinet, waiting for the Empire to hit.

The first trooper spun around the corner, hugging the wall to assess the situation.

Kamick took him down with a snap shot.

The remaining foes clustered behind the cover of the doorway, firing without really seeing. Under this cover, a quartet of troopers tried to scurry across the opening to take up positions on the other side.

Ji was able to shoot one, though his armor absorbed much of it, and he crawled to safety.

Irina's discblade clipped two others, removing them from the fight.

The two groups traded fire for a few seconds, hitting walls, doorway, ceiling, and more, but not flesh.

Irina took the chance of a slight pause in firing to stand and fling her hands forward.

A great rush of wind carried across the room, and the Imperials were thrown back from cover.

Ji's fire joined that of Kamick and Drado in taking down these vulnerable soldiers in a quick surge of destruction.

"Drado! Clear!" Ji ordered.

The kyuzo warrior ran forward to the doorway, confirming the enemy's destruction and the lack of reinforcements. Ji took the chance to grab one of the E-11 blaster rifles and a belt full of power packs from one of the fallen Imperials.

Kamick looked at her as she did this. "I thought you only used slugthrowers," he questioned.

"When there are insufficient supplies of blasters, I prefer leave them in the hands of better marksmen," Ji explained. She was competent with a rifle, but had no love for such weapons. "But that is hardly the case here, is it?"

"Guess not," the deputy admitted.

"I have a route," Cyc announced, drawing Ji's attention. "The excavation is cutting into a sealed lab on the southeast corner. It's been their main push for days. Whatever they want, it must be in there."

"How do we get there?" Ji demanded.

"Out past the dead," the droid indicated the fallen army troops. "Then down to the third hall on the right, then second one on the left, that'll bring us to the drill location."

"Then move out," Ji motioned, and Drado slipped into point again.

They jogged down the hallways, with the noblewoman knowing it was only a matter of time now. The Empire was aware of them, and would be striving to gather together the rest of its guards and also the Zygerrians. They could overwhelm them soon enough. We have to get in and get out fast.

Twice they happened upon additional army personnel. They scattered at quick bursts of blasterfire from Drado and then went down beneath the brutal passes of the Discblade, a weapon guided by the mind of its master and able to ignore cover almost at will.

Taking the left turn as Cyc had instructed Ji could see their objective in the light of work lamps. There had been another security cube there, one now shattered by the use of a massive thermic drill.

"Interesting," the droid commented as they charged toward their objective. "Because the carbonite alloy radiates heat, its ability to absorb it must be limited compared to other forms of energy."

"In Basic?" Ji heard Kamick grumble from beside her.

"Get it hot enough and it melts," Cyc added sarcastically.

A handful of miserable looking slaves, mostly white-haired Orams, stood around the drill.

Ji saw no guards. Where are they?

"Down!" Irina warned.

Another form of white appeared.

Stormtroopers!

Ji dove facefirst for the floor. She fired wildly as she did so, knowing these were not the same opponents as before. The difference became obvious the moment one of the white-armored soldiers took a hit to the leg from Drado's initial burst.

An Imperial Army trooper would have fallen, likely failed to continue fighting. The Stormtrooper stood tall, firing back a full barrage.

Four stormtroopers, firing from cover, with her troops in the open. Ji's mind scrambled for a proper counter.

Cyc provided it of his own accord.

The droid fired a grenade only a few meters in front of their position, filling the hallway with thick, opaque smoke.

Shots still came, but now they traced walls, floors, seeking a body, not seeing one. The droid's obscurement clearly blocked imaging systems as well as visual aiming.

It did not block the Force.

Irina's discblade flew, and Kamick stood crouched behind his shield, firing intently. The look on the maskri's face was unreadable, but the deputy was cool and focused, deliberately aiming and eliminating threat after threat, as a police officer would. Ji kept up her own fire in tandem with Drado, hoping to add to the confusion. The Kyuzo stood in front of her, head bent forward, using his armored hat to help absorb ricochets and random bolts.

Cyc lobbed another grenade down the hall, and this time there was forceful explosion, blowing the smoke clear.

The stormtroopers were down, armor scored, slashed, and shattered.

Arrogantly Ji saw the droid spin his grenade launcher around a mechanical hand. "Aiming is for people who are clearly using too small of a gun," Cyc smirked.

"Not the time for jokes," Ji admonished, though she felt a great deal of relief herself. Stormtroopers were rare in the Kalat Arm, and though those posted here were the dregs of the corps, they were still formidable opponents. "Those stormtroopers indicate this is a serious matter indeed."

They ran to the security cube.

Passing through it, even in the disassembled state, was still disconcerting. Ji expected the air to light on fire around her.

"What about the captives?" Kamick demanded as they passed the Orams, still chained with slave collars.

One of the Orams stood, sparing Ji the trouble of answering. He reached over to one of the fallen stormtroopers and grabbed the discarded E-11 blaster rifle. "We will wait for them to come back, and fight until only one side remains."

The noblewoman had neither the reason nor will to contest this decision, brutally fatalistic as it was. "Good luck to you," was all she said in response.

The deputy clearly didn't like it, but after a moment's hesitation, stayed with them.

"Fight today's battles today," Ji told him. "The rest must wait." It pained her to say this, but there was no other choice.

They passed beyond the carbonite walls and into a laboratory born from nightmares.

What is this place? Ji marveled, half in awe, half in terror. She had not imagined the heart of the scheme to be anything even close.

The lighting was a wan, weak red, bathing everything in the hue of old blood. Space was cluttered, busy, filled with the dark echo of a great burst of energy from the ancient scientists who had labored in this dark and defended reliquary. The progression of their work could be clearly seen marching up and down in rows from one end to the other.

There were tables and creches, boxes and benches, frightful mechanized tools, precise measuring devices, and precision crucibles and autoclaves for the manipulation of advanced materials. Once there had also been flesh, limbs, organs, and whole bodies chained beneath the knife of icy cold reason, a search for advancement completely without morals.

What in the name of all winds were they developing? The noblewoman's gaze dashed about the room at first, but gradually settled, marching up and down the semi-preserved stills, now lacking in the flesh once fashioned to the labors, or many other components. The product seemed to be visible in bits and pieces of metal shard, sometimes shaped, often shattered. All forms were archaic, but some were tantalizingly familiar. Half a mask...a few fingers from an oversized glove...a knee pad...and others could be discerned. Searching her mind for a matching reference Ji found it in the hall behind.

The stormtroopers! She realized suddenly. These ancient Desga researchers had been creating some kind of armor. But why? Wait, she told her self. Nevermind what the Desga wanted twenty millenniums ago, what can the Empire possibly want with this design now?

"Were they making restraints?" Kamick mumbled, staring this way and that in confusion.

"I don't know if they were making anything coherent," Cyc interjected before Ji could speak. She paused then, wanting to know what the droid had discovered. He had tools of analysis none of the others possessed. "I can say that they were experimenting with the same carbonite alloy they used in the security cubes. Much of this material has been destroyed by time, or perhaps by researchers trying to hide the data, but I can tell there were attempts to advance the material."

"Isn't it advanced enough?" Kamick looked back towards the security chamber they had just evaded with a grim look on his face. Ji admitted the deputy's point, but she could also see what the droid drove at. Those security cubes, she thought. They are large, bulky, and rely on a slow feedback mechanism.

"Not really," Cyc shook his head. The droid walked over to an ancient console. Fiddling with it slightly he managed to activate it, calling a grainy few seconds of imagery to display on a nearby panel. The pictures were brief, and missing great chunks where corrupted data had intervened, but Ji could see a clear diagram instantly recognizable as a set of engineering processes. "The security cubes are a primitive use of such advanced energy-absorption technology. This research was intended to produce slender, lighter, and more mobile components. Also, it seems they intended to change the feedback mechanism; I suspect the intent was not to simply discharge the absorbed energy in large bursts, but to utilize it for many functions, strength, self-repair, and more."

"Invincible armor," Ji breathed. The leap of deduction had not been difficult, ultimately military science was devoted to offense, defense, or deception, and this technology lent itself to only one choice. "We were mistaken. This was never about bioweapons, it was about super soldiers."

"You're right," Cyc confirmed immediately. "These designs clearly comport to derivations of time period military personal defense gear. The engineers were trying to build suits of armor, and they appear to have used live subjects to test their progress." Ji considerable derived assurance from the droid's agreement, though her mind reeled from the suffering it had taken to conduct such work.

"Why personal armor?" Kamick objected, noting a drearily practical problem. "Why not starship plating?"

Ji searched her brain and came up with no easy answer. Carbonite armor to absorb turbolaser blasts seemed far more useful than blaster proof soldiers.

Cyc's mind did not bow to such common-sense ideals so easily. The analysis unit pulled out a datapad and his fingers flicked through a rapid series of advanced calculations. "The realities of scale make that idea impossible. As can be observed from the cube outside, the alloy's absorbency is limited, and in a plated form surely less so. At some point radiation bleeds through, and any weapon above a certain size would effectively treat this material as a large transfer conduit. Worse, in space, with only vacuum on the outside, the armor could only radiate effectively inward, every strike would simply cook the ship within. It is only at the scale of personal weapons that this would matter." The droid moved to another ruined console, considering. "Blasters of the time were weaker and bulkier than present day devices, however, so this armor would have been more useful to its creators then. Also, the carbonite absorbs kinetic energy as well. That would make it extremely valuable against slugthrowers and projectile weapons, even melee combat. Image taking a grenade to the face, and not only not being damaged, but not even falling down."

Not usually blessed with a mind for visual imagery, Ji had no trouble conjuring a vision of stormtroopers in gray carbonite armor marching unscathed through a heavy artillery barrage, blasterfire dissipating harmlessly into their shells. "Find the final system," she ordered in hushed tones. "We must know how far this went."

It took some scrambling, but Irina provided a surprise indication. "Here," the Zeison Sha instructed. "There is great darkness here."

The point she marked was a large double table in the back. Upon it were two partially complete armor suits, now caved into upon themselves from the weight of time. Old faded red stains were the only signs of the beings who had died for this terrible knowledge.

Cyc powered up the console, illuminating a full square meter of wallscreen. It played through a brief presentation, roughly a minute and a half in length, wherein a sample armor suit was spun in three dimensions, various features highlighted and marked with blocks of text. There was even audio, bits and pieces of a voice speaking the Basic of a time in ages past. It was ruined past Ji's ability to absorb anything but a few sounds, but she suspected the droid's scrubbers might acquire real data.

"They completed the project," Cyc noted, his voice held no fear, being completely overwhelmed by the astonishment of the achievement. "Developing a composite armor polymer and a prototype suit design. It had all the alloy properties they had hoped for and was apparently one-hundred percent proof against all weaponry they had in this colony."

A cold sense of doom grew in the pit of Ji's stomach. Outdated though those weapons must have been, they functioned on the same principles as today's devices. The same was likely true of the alloy itself. In the hands of Imperial engineers it could be modernized, brought up to standard. The Empire has found a method to construct invincible armor.

"However," Cyc amended, sounding almost amused. "The project was deemed a complete failure." The droid shook wildly, and then actually started laughing. "I can't believe I didn't notice this, it's so obvious. The engineers concentrated on making an armor light and flexible enough to wear, but they forgot that its energy absorbing property was not one-sided."

"What's so funny?" Kamick demanded, clearly not getting the joke, and saving Ji from the embarrassment of having to ask herself.

"The people they put in the armor were trapped inside!" Cyc chortled. "They couldn't make it move, all their impulses were absorbed by the alloy. In fact it actually absorbed the body heat of the people inside, causing hypothermia within minutes and death in less than an hour."

So their genius created nothing but tombs, Ji looked at the half-ruined armored suits in a new light. No wonder Irina thought it was a great darkness. She also felt a moment's balm of relief The Empire had surely run across the same problem. The idea of these Desga had, despite the suffering it had caused those long-lost colonists, been nothing more than a mad vision in the eyes of corrupt researchers.

"There's no way to make it work?" Kamick voiced a lingering concern. Ji noticed the detective was pointing at a small wall console beyond the table. "Maybe they continued research elsewhere."

Cyc chuckled. "I doubt it, but it's worth looking into every possibility." He brought up the small console, displaying a screen only he could see. "Hmm..." the droid sounded puzzled. "Someone excised the complete archive of this file, but why? What's so important?"

A premonition of great danger swept over the noblewoman. "Does nothing remain?" she pushed him to keep looking. The Empire was thorough here, if they thought this important, it must be so.

"Well, there is an introductory summary," Cyc muttered. "It seems this unit was designed for long term data storage, a private archive of the head researcher. She claims to have anticipated the double-edged nature of their project, even as it was ongoing, and attempted to come up with a solution. This was nothing more than an intellectual exercise, she concluded it was impossible with the technology at their disposal. From what I can gather it was a two-step solution. The first was to interlace the alloy with microfibers capable of transmitting a gamma pulse to excite the electrons of the atoms in the immediate vicinity, causing a state change that would nullify the absorption effect. Quite ingenious, that would allow you to basically turn it on and off in patches whenever you needed to, while still not being vulnerable to any sort of outside disruption."

"Is that even possible?" Ji demanded, not able to follow the droid's technical banter hardly at all.

"With today's microprocessing technology?" Cyc shrugged. "Sure, if you're willing to break the bank. General Grievous' hands probably had similar construction, so he could properly control lightsabers."

"I don't think cost is a big concern when it comes to invincible armor," Kamick noted dourly.

"What was the second step?" Ji's control could not hold back the need to know in her voice, even as she was certain Cyc had already reached a conclusion and was finding their trepidation somewhat amusing.

"The second piece is more complicated," the droid's analytical focus never wavered. "To control that kind of interface effectively would require immense computing power, which if done conventionally, even with today's advanced processors, would mean armor that protects nothing but it's own batteries. The researcher proposed instead creating an innate bond between the bearer and the armor, so that the brain would naturally develop the patterns for efficient control of its properties. There would still be learning curve hurdles and other problems of implementation to overcome after that, but theoretically you could derive a useful control method that way."

"And does such a bond to create this terror of life-eating stone exist?" Irina's voice was ominous indeed, deeper and fuller than normal. The Zeison Sha's eyes had rolled back, and Ji guessed she saw the ruinous future unfolding if this madness were realized.

"In theory it could," Cyc shrugged. "I mean, there's nothing I can see that forbids it, but right now it doesn't. You're talking about something orders of magnitude more intricate than the most advanced cybernetics or powered suits, with almost no practical payoff in any other fashion. I've never heard of anyone working on anything like that. Honestly, armor research has been heavily stilted to droids anyway for most of the Republic's history."

"Perhaps so," Ji did not feel hopeful. "But you said the archive had been extracted. Someone took the copy of these ideas, not just the introduction, but the researcher's full thought experiment. There is someone in the Empire who believes this is possible, and no doubt is willing to spend many lives to try. We did not get here in time. We have already lost the race." The admission of defeat was crushing, but she would not hide behind lies. The Empire had found the secret first, whether it was viable or not changed nothing in her attempt to stop them.

The long journey was a mistake, Ji cursed herself. I knew I would make one. I was too cautious. Perhaps a more aggressive, more capable commander would have countenanced charting the path across on speeders. Now it is too late.

Despair did not wash over the noblewoman alone. All together they stared at those empty armored suits, nightmare imaginings of the unstoppable Imperial horde to come in their thoughts. Ji saw Tianjiang's canyons scourged by battle, the herds butchered and lying in the fields, her family's home thrown down and burning. All she had known growing up, valiant volunteers, hired guards, family retainers, her mother last of all, slaughtered there; not a single Imperial lay amongst them to give their sacrifice meaning. They shall reap through us like grain before the scythe, and not even discblades will cut them in return.

The injection of Drado's voice to the silence broke Ji free of her diabolic reverie.

"The Empire has rallied against us," she rose to her feet slowly. Looking at the E-11 in her hand. It can not match what is to come, but it can still fight those enemies. Raising a fresh blaster pack to reload for the battle that must be fought now, Ji recognized something else. Problems of implementation, Cyc had said. Development of new weapons systems was never simple. It would take some time for the Empire to be ready, perhaps decades if they had to start from scratch.

Duty demands I stand even as doom stares its eyes down upon me, Ji had learned that lesson well. I cannot forsake the fight now, when doom remains beyond the horizon. "Move to the escape shaft," she ordered, bringing the others to their feet. "Kamick, take point, Cyc, direct, Drado, rear guard." There was one more thing, she realized. "This does not fully solve the mystery of the slaves. They were not all laborers here, we must still search for where they were taken." The descendants of the Desga were being used to recreate the foul experiments of their ancestors, but it was being done somewhere else. There was an objective she could face. "Move!"

**Chapter Notes**

I like to think that's Cyc's explanation is more or less understandable, and work on advanced armor systems are not exactly new for the Empire (see Katarn, Kyle).


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 – Another Day**

**Desga Ruins, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Silently Ji praised the sacrifice of the Oram slaves. Too proud to run when they could spit in the eye of their captors, their last stand had bought crucial time as her companions retreated to Cyc's escape shaft. She knew it had also allowed them to totally bypass the Imperial obstacles to their retreat.

Given the casualties we inflicted earlier, I bet the men now below us are the balance of all remaining Imperial Army personnel. They will have to spread out and search the lab, leaving us to escape above. This unexpected dislocation of the foe gave Ji a tremendous boost of confidence in their ability to survive and escape these terrible ruins.

The assent of the long cylinder was easy. It had originally been strewn with barrier plates at short intervals, but the Empire had cleared those out when they penetrated downward. All that had remained was the rung ladder on one side, and the climb had been swift and easy up the several stories.

Irina was the first out, the Zeison Sha having blasted up the tunnel using the strength of the Force. She blew the hatch off instead of opening it, the flying durasteel door descended to crush the unlucky Zygerrian tasked with guarding this point.

They emerged on the cleared rooftop of the ancient hospital, the first surface not covered with ice any of the group had observed in days. If had been converted into a large staging area, connecting to the main shaft back to the surface and the large pit dug into the side of the building to reach the lab. "Move! Move!" Ji began giving orders before she was even fully clear of the tunnel.

The general route Cyc had predicted was memorized. The Zygerrians could be seen everywhere in the light of the bright labs they had placed on the roof. Their slaves were concentrated around the excavation and amongst a circle of prefabricated sheds used as an operating base. The refueling station lay on the northeast wall, less than half a kilometer distant.

"Cyc, now would be time for your distraction," the squad leader told him.

"Right," the droid input a series of commands into a datapad.

The lights at the mouth of the hole in the roof began to flash and strobe. Hideous alarms split the air, bouncing and echoing off the ice in every direction they created the perfect din, rendering all auditory information utter chaos. Ji did not even try to shout over this cacophony, but waved everyone forward.

Drado surged forth, vaulting low-lying crates stored at this neglected end of the complex. A stunned Zygerrian, turning to observe these unexpected enemies in panic, was slapped across the face with the butt of the repeater and went down.

Two nearby slavers saw this happen, dropping down behind an idle load lifter and drawing their weapons.

Irina gestured, and the load lifter gave a rolling jump, spinning to crush those who had sheltered behind it beneath the immense weight.

Nearby slaves huddled and crouched against the storm, seeking anything promising a safety. Ji pitied them, wishing she could offer freedom, but it would be enough to save her own.

The Zygerrians managed to coordinate a response when they were halfway across. A formation of twenty of so of the slavers gathered together in a mismatched line and made a rough charge, firing as they came with mix-matched weapons.

"Cyc, suppress them," Ji shouted and gestured. She missed having a Herglic with a high-powered slugthrower, but a droid with a grenade launcher would do.

Whump, whump, whump, the analysis droid fired, each discharge sending slavers scrambling to evade the high-powered fragmentation devices.

A surprising number slipped and fell, skidding and sliding across a terribly slick surface in their urgency to turn.

Ji's head whipped around to see Irina's hands on the roof, a thin sheen of ice extending outward. A brilliant move, she noted. "Run! Keep low!" Ji put words to action, scrambling among the scattered machinery, storage crates, and surplus prefab parts. Occasionally she returned fire to keep the Zygerrians scattered, and the race stayed at a stalemate as her comrades did the same. Any time a group of Zygerrians assembled to present a nucleus of greater resistance a stiff wind blew them apart.

The refueling station was suddenly all around, Drado dispatched a pair of Zygerrians standing guard, while Kamick blasted an Imperial tech before he could draw from behind his terminal. Cyc dashed to the terminal even as Ji looked to pick the best vehicles. There were a number of cargo haulers, personal transports, and similar designs, but she wanted speed.

To one side, tucked in between mid-sized tanks surely used to refuel large portable drills, the noblewoman found what they needed. A pair of T-47s, perfect! "Those speeders!" she swept her arm over. "Take them!"

Kamick was already moving, having grasped her intent even before she voiced it. The others hurried behind the deputy.

With quick motions Ji watched the outback deputy jump into the pilot's seat and start the power up sequence in a series of rapid commands. Ji followed this up, headed for the second speeder. She reached it as Irina jumped in behind the deputy. "Irina!" Ji ordered hurriedly, realizing she must counter possible pursuit. "Sabotage the fuel supply!"

The blue-haired Zeison Sha nodded grimly, and metal began to buckle in the side of the main fuel tank, tearing inexorably away.

Ji started to punch in commands, only looking back when she had a spare moment.

Drado stood on the edge of her speeder, crouching down and offering covering fire for their retreat. Where's Cyc? She glanced around, only to find the droid was still at the terminal.

"Cyc!" Ji screamed. "Get out now!" What was his delay?

The droid shook his head, and though Ji repeated the order, for ten long seconds she could do nothing but take the speeder's repulsolifts up as the droid refused to obey.

Finally Cyc ducked away from the terminal, but the counterfire from the Zygerrians had intensified. The energy blasts from their small arms echoed harmlessly off the hardened hulls of the speeders, but Cyc had no such protection.

The droid crouched as he ran, but his orange plating was an obvious target.

The inevitable occurred ten meters from Ji's speeder.

A bolt smashed the droid in the right knee, and he clattered to the floor sprawling.

There can be no turning back, Ji recalled her orders. Every second now meant airborne pursuit would be closer. She had to leave Cyc behind. "Go now!" she shouted to Kamick.

The deputy's look was grim, but he understood the order. The transparisteel canopy descended and the T-47 lifted off.

Ji made to do the same herself, but discovered Drado was missing.

The Kyuzo had made an acrobatic charge, firing and rolling across the floor, hat toward the enemy, in Cyc's direction. "No!" Ji shouted in spite of herself. Why would the Kyuzo throw his life away?

Miraculously, despite the storm of fire, Drado made it to Cyc, but he was pinned there, hiding behind his armored hat as laser fire scorched the stone all around. There was no way to move, and soon the armor would be burned through.

Then a gray bulk interposed itself between the Kyuzo and the enemy.

Kamick's airspeeder!

The warrior was upright instantly, grabbing the damaged droid like a sack of parts and dragging and throwing him onto the rear seat of the T-47.

Ji wondered at the deputy's maneuver, he was holding the bottom of the airspeeder perpendicular to the ground, something she thought impossible to achieve with standard repuslors.

There was no chance for further reflection. Drado jumped in behind Cyc's form, landing crouched down atop the droid. This triggered a groan the noblewoman hardly heard, she was too busy punching the engines to full.

They blasted out through the kilometer long tunnel of ice even as the canopy was still closing.

It took Ji a minute to find a private communication frequency for the other speeder when they hit the surface. "Come in, come in," she queried.

"I hear you," Kamick acknowledged. "What's the plan?"

They quickly circled out from the ice cap and headed north, tracking low to the barren white and brown of the tundra.

"Increase to full throttle and head for Rakjas," Ji instructed. "When we hit the ocean we'll pull some evasive maneuvers to try and throw off any pursuit." She had considerable worry on that account. T-47s were speedy when unburdened, for they were designed to haul massive cargo modules, but a few starfighters could run them down in moments.

"Shouldn't be any pursuit," a slightly muffled and considerably irritated voice came from behind her. Ji recognized the voice of Cyc, and suppressed a sharp retort. The droid had defied her instructions, but now was not the time to be handing out punishment. "I set a block on all the outward communications, they'll be scrambled for a while."

Useful, Ji considered, but she would not let slip any praise. "There are still the orbiting satellites," she admonished. "We are in authorized ships, but are moving without notice, they are likely to react eventually."

Kamick led them over the ice easily, hugging the ground without any trouble. Ji had to struggle hard to even come close to matching the deputy's nap of the earth flying. This surely prolonged the moment of their detection, but as Ji had predicted it eventually came.

It was first detected not by any action, but by reaction. A deeply imperial voice intruded within the cockpit via an override com frequency. "T-47 flight out of polar operations area, you are outside your identification zone and have failed to provide proper notification. Identify yourself!"

Unsure are to how to handle this demand, Ji was silent for several seconds, long enough for Kamick to unexpectedly preempt her. "This is a critical courier flight on direct approach to Rakjas Spaceport at the order of the Captain," the deputy, normally quite patient and personable, sounded positively irate. His voice was filled with an imperious anger completely out of his line with his normal personality. "You haven't got the authority to question me tech officer." The title, which Ji was not certain was even correct, was filled with considerable scorn.

"Sir I don't know who's authority you think you have," the imperial came back after a brief pause. "But this is a contested system and all flights must be filed with the local garrison comm-"

"I don't report to the garrison!" Kamick shot back. "Our operation is independent and outside your chain of command! No get off my com line before I have you reported!"

There was another brief moment of silence from the Imperial end. Ji was impressed, she was not exactly sure where Kamick was going, but he'd certainly thrown the man off-balance.

"No, I must insist you stay on the line and speak with my superior," the Imperial replied, and the noblewoman understood what was happening. Kamick was pulling rank. It was unbelievably brazen, considering he didn't know the rank in question or even what service encompassed the excavation's masters, but it seemed to be working. Delay, delay, Ji whispered silently. If Kamick could keep it going long enough they'd be over the equatorial boreal forests. Once there any Imperial response would no longer matter, they could ditch freely.

Kamick kept up the charade, refusing to divulge details through pure bombast. This went through one lieutenant, and then another more senior of the same rank, and finally to the captain of the garrison's fighter wing, who after a few moments cut to the chase and demanded compliance or he'd launch fighters. Only then did Kamick cut the connection.

A flight of A-7 Hunters was screaming out from the garrison five minutes later, but by then they were already on the ground, forty klicks out from Rakjas.

The walk back was tough, especially carrying a complaining Cyc between them, but the risks were low. The Empire had no manpower to launch an extensive ground search. Ji knew just as well as they did that doing so would be giving the local resistance fighters exactly what they wanted.

"What gave you the idea?" Ji asked Kamick during a pause in the march back to the spaceport.

"Not sure," the deputy shrugged, looking a bit boyish for a moment. "The Force maybe, I just felt the impulse that I had to jump out in front there."

"A wise impulse," Ji admitted, feeling foolish for asking the question. She had come to accept Kamick's judgment enough to add the next. "Shamefully, I had no plan in mind likely to be anywhere near as effective."

"That's cause you work for a real army," he replied levelly, but with an undercurrent of bitterness. "And you're a real leader, you'd never get it."

"Explain," Ji did not believe the compliment suited her. I am a middling commander. Enough for a squad, but not enough for great things.

"The sheriff's office on Lavestral was filled with lazy, backward, and uncommitted officers and managers, men who took the job for the pay, the speeder, the chance to carry a blaster, not out of any ideals," he told her, though the admission clearly burned him. "Mostly they took their training, but they aren't motivated by desire to help people, and their biggest worry is messing up and being chewed out for it. People like that, if you challenge their authority, claim they can't touch you, they'll fall back. They don't believe you of course, but they don't want to be the one who makes the call, so they find someone who they think can, only he's the same way, so he does it too, and on and on until you reach someone high enough up the chain he knows he's good to disrupt something on that scale no matter who's giving the orders."

"I see," Ji understood after a moment. "The starfighter captain knew that even if Jasrol Mintran was on the T-47, he had the authority to demand identification, the other men weren't sure."

"The tactic normally doesn't work," Kamick added glumly. "Mostly all it does is stall while the guys on the other side go up the chain and all you do is make everyone rutting furious which loses any leverage you have in actual negotiation, but all we needed was a little time."

Ji turned the tactic over in her head. High-risk, low-reward she decided, no wonder she had not thought of it. Such dangerous measures are not discovered by a thorough exploration of the options, and that is the method I must rely upon. A better army would detect the tactic. Had she been in the place of that sensor officer she would have stood on her duty and demanded identification. Then again, the noblewoman admitted privately. They are the Empire, with a myriad organization of different secret departments and authorities, it is quite possible that someone could bypass the normal channels and a low level officer would not be aware due to an oversight.

Among us, only Zeison Sha fill that role, and they have ways of proving who they are.

**Chapter Notes**

T-47s are the speeders used on Hoth, though their primary purpose is supposed to be cargo management. These particular models were unarmed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 – Into the Abyss**

**Rakjas Spaceport, Kratovas**

**Kalat Arm**

**Wild Space**

**1 BBY**

Warmed, cleaned, and rested in the relative shelter of a temporary safehouse, Kamick fiddled nervously. He tried to focus on the exercises Irina had set him, but the calm simply would not come, try as he might. Eventually he patterned his thoughts, investigating the cause of this nervous impulse. I'm in between, he realized. Uncertainty was the source of his troubles.

What comes next? He wondered.

The Empire is halfway to building invincible super-soldiers that will win all their wars. We know about it, but that's all. Who knows what was in that engineer's data cache? They could almost have it ready even now.

But maybe they don't.

That was the hope, Kamick could put it in words simply; maybe it's not too late. He believed hat was true, he could feel it, and he knew Irina did too. We can still stop them, somehow.

The how was the difficult question.

He didn't think they had any leads at all.

Irina was out for the moment, retrieving updates on the Imperial search for them, the events at the ice cap, and replacement pats for Cyc's damaged leg. He supposed it would have to wait until the Zeison Sha returned.

When she did, she came with few answers. The Empire was no longer looking for them, it had spilled over into general street fighting in several neighborhoods, the battle going back and forth, though soon the resistance would be forced to try and slip away before the noose took them. The polar facility was apparently unchanged, but there was no sign anyone had reinforced them, so Ji guessed the Empire was prepared to abandon the research effort, continue with slave transfers only. Kamick thought the noblewoman was probably correct in her assessment.

"So what's next?" Kamick eventually asked, unable to contain his impatience.

"I am unsure," Ji's answer was not heartening. "We have ascertained the Empire's aims, but not where they are focused on realizing them. There must be a hidden lab somewhere in the Kalat Arm, the ultimate destination of both the Desga slaves and the research taken from the ruins, but we have no leads on how to find it. We may have to restart the investigation with that as the new objective."

It was a realistic, but crushing analysis. Nothing we've learned tells us how to stop the Empire, Kamick knew. All they had determined was what would happen if they failed. Was coming here irrelevant? The deputy wondered. Should we have gone somewhere else, looked for something else from the start?

If there had been a mistake, he could not identify it, but the current state of failure was surely a sign.

"Actually," an unusually quiet Cyc, his injury had finally proven capable of reducing his continual stream of informative jabber, interjected. "I think we do have a lead."

"Have you been withholding information?" Ji's accusation was spoken in gentle, polite, tones, but it was absolutely a demand.

"No, no, no," the orange head shook furiously. "It's just being stuck on the floor I've re-parsed all the data I encountered in the base, and I discovered something from the communications system."

"Discovered what?" Ji's demeanor toward the droid had hardened since his refusal to fall back in the ice cave, and Kamick's sympathy was with the noblewoman. Even though Cyc's delay had ultimately proved valuable, he had risked everything and disobeyed valid orders.

"A communications log," Cyc explained. "It's got a record of all the messages they sent out, and their security levels. I can only recover mundane banality, but there were a lot of high-level communiques sent back and forth to the same source."

"If we cannot slice the communications, what use are they to us?" Ji's momentary sternness faded with her enthusiasm, an attitude Kamick reflected. Data we can't read is effectively the same as no data at all.

"About that..." the droid mused aloud. "Admittedly it would probably take a genuine master slicer with high end equipment months to crack something like this, and we've got neither, but there may be something else we can use. These were all subspace transmissions, and they're all time-stamped."

"What good is that?" Kamick couldn't see what value such data had. Subspace had a range of several light years, and could be routed to other transceivers nigh-instantly. Out here beyond the HoloNet, it was the best form of communication available.

"Well, normally nothing, which is why that material is unprotected," Cyc acknowledged, sounding blisteringly superior. "But the camp had more than a kilometer of ice atop it, and that's a lot of shielding, even for subspace. To preserve maximal clarity, essential if transmitting already damaged technical data like a lot of the recovered stuff must have been, you'd want a boosting antenna," he paused for dramatic effect, earning stares from everyone else in the room. "A directional antenna."

"You have the record of the directions," Ji announced. It was not a question.

"Indeed," Cyc crowed. "Recall how they'd let their system overlap the reactivated ruins' functions? This was one of the pieces I was able to record. I never thought it would be important."

"So where does the antenna point?" Kamick demanded. "What system?"

"That's the tricky part," Cyc looked directly at Ji, meeting her stare. "It points out into the Unknown Regions, my database can't go far enough on its own."

"A star is a star," Ji said, her body seemingly unperturbed, but in a perception Kamick was beginning to recognize as the Force, she roiled.

The Unknown Regions? Kamick's mind dashed down the road of memory to boyhood tales of the lands beyond charted exploration, where every hyperspace jump could spell doom and every world was completely without record in the annal of the galaxy. It was the land of explorers and pirates, or glorious treasures and terrifying aliens. The Kalat Arm was roughly half Unknown, though it had once been much more. For the past few centuries, explorers, driven partly by curiosity, but largely by the credits promised from ever-greedy Outer Rim Oreworks, had pushed the boundary deeper and deeper to the edge of the galactic disk.

"I imagine our Imperial enemies have discovered another Desga colony," Ji continued. Such worlds were considered great prizes, and many had been discovered recently, as Imperials and Zeison Sha alike trolled the vastness of space looking for resources with which to defeat each other. "Perhaps one with unusual traits that inspired this super-soldier endeavor. We will journey there, confirm the route, reconnoiter the enemy, and then return to gather whatever it takes to stop this threat."

"A new Desga species?" Ji's bait had grabbed the droid quickly. "You're right, that makes sense, probably they're trying to use that species as a baseline and graft useful traits from all the other Desga onto it, creating an enhanced template. I'm in."

Drado muttered something in his own language. Kamick had spent enough time around the Kyuzo now to recognize it as an acknowledgment. He wasn't surprised, though he couldn't guess the warrior's reasons, the Kyuzo had clearly chosen to follow Jia Ji wherever she would take him.

His devotion to her was not so great, but it never occurred to the deputy to consider abandoning the task. I've got to finish this. He was convinced now that the Force had been part of what drove him to make the decision back on Ablerin. I saw a future where I went down this path, and I'm not stopping until the end. "I'm sticking this one out," he told the noblewoman.

"Are you certain?" Ji questioned, looking to Irina. "Your training..."

"Continues," the maskri confirmed. "This is too important for any of us to abandon now. It has been some time since I left Kratovas, perhaps a new world will make for a pleasant change."

"Your support is welcome," Ji smiled lightly, though the deputy wondered at her sincerity. Does she feel she is sacrificing us all? "Then there is no time to waste. Tomorrow we will retrieve the _Nomad Sentry_, re-provision, and prepare for the journey. We will find the dark heart of this madness, and then we will destroy it."

Kamick flipped the discblade back and forth in his hand using the Force. It was easier now, his control over the weapon had become solid. He could even send it spinning around the ridiculously cramped confines of the bunkroom and catch it again, but it felt somehow hollow. Maybe it was the under-built nature of the small ship, with him unable to stand up straight, but the deputy felt worn down.

He hadn't expected eight days in space.

"Charting to an unknown location is difficult," Cyc had explained, the droid was attached umbilically to _Nomad Sentry_'s computer and effectively stationary during the transition. "Without having a secure chart of the obstacles in front the process must be made in short jumps of less than one light year in distance. We are actually going faster than an ordinary explorer, as we are able to follow a functional vector more or less directly."

Maybe that was true, but the droid was the only one bearing up under the strain of prolonged confinement easily. Ji and Drado had taken to playing each other in marathon sessions of Dejarik. The noblewoman had the overall advantage, but the Kyuzo tended to surprising unorthodox wild gambits and could turn the table unexpectedly. Irina worked to keep Kamick busy with exercises, but on her own time spent considerable energy embroidering the frills of a new bow for her hair, apparently a maskri custom.

It was this she was doing now, hardly paying attention to him until Kamick suddenly paused in his motions.

"Is something wrong?" the Zeison Sha asked him, clearing sensing his distress.

"It's just..." the deputy struggled to put what he wanted to say into words. "You're teaching me how to be a Zeison Sha, and I get that, I can even see myself there someday," he surprised himself with the admission, but no, the Force was coming easier, more naturally. It was a matter of time and practice now, and development of some advanced techniques to go with the basic skills, but nothing compared to the initial leap. "I'm just not sure as to why to be Zeison Sha."

"An interesting question," Irina replied mysteriously, her great eyes twinkling. "And not easily answered."

"Why not?" Kamick wondered. Shouldn't there be a code or an oath, or something?

"Some students ask that question right away," The maskri woman deflected deftly. "Some take a while to ask it, and some never ask at all. Few find the simple answers satisfactory."

"What do you mean?" Does she mean there is no answer? There's no point to it at all? He didn't like to think about that.

"The shortest answer is this: you become Zeison Sha because you can," the way Irina said this brought to mind the memory of Xulin's discovery of his Force sensitivity. 'You are Zeison Sha' she had proclaimed, as if there had not been any choice at all.

His puzzled look must have prompted the maskri to continue. "You were born able to touch the Force," she explained. "That is a very rare gift. Perhaps one human in one million is so lucky. Given the rarity of the gift, should it not be developed?"

"That seems unfair," Kamick retorted. He was born with this power so that determined his path in life? I thought the Zeison Sha believed in individual freedoms?

"Is it?" Irina's eyes flashed. "It is no different than any other gift of similar potency. Take Drado for example, the Kyuzo is blessed with astonishing athletic gifts that allow him to become an incredible warrior. Such gifts are more common among his kind than among humans, but they are nevertheless important. Would it not be a shame to let them languish and take some other path of lesser capability?" Irina's eyes focused on Kamick's face. "Drado's gift is personal, but what of other talents? There are those blessed with true genius, the power to create new ideas, new technologies, new policies, that change the galaxy. They can benefit millions and more with such gifts, should they neglect them for their own sake and let everything suffer by comparison? To touch the Force is both such gifts. It grants incredible personal ability, but also the potential to help so many more."

Irina paused, then said a line surely memorized from long ago. "In the struggle for survival we fight both alone and with others, but the one thing we cannot do is to refuse the fight."

"So I have no choice but to be a soldier?" Kamick couldn't fault Irina's appeal, but it seemed so strict, limiting.

"A soldier?" the maskri cocked her head to the side. "No one has said you must be anything of any kind. You are thinking of the Jedi, who demand everyone fight in the same way, it is one of their many mistakes. Each Zeison Sha fights in his or her own way, as she chooses. Some are indeed soldiers, such as Xulin, and in these dark days of Imperial occupation many have taken up arms in such a way, as I have been forced to," Kamick saw regret in the icy blue eyes in that moment. Irina was good at hiding it, but she clearly did not love battle, or even see it as a right and proper endeavor as Ji did. If the Empire was not here, there would be no blood on her discblade, he realized. "But there are bounteous other ways to use the Force. Our powers were first developed on Yanibar, where they were used to haul water from the depths, purify it of toxins, and shelter the people from terrible winds. Such struggles prepared us well for the hard, cruel days we see now, but we fight for ourselves and the people against the harsh face of the universe, not others."

Irina put her hands together on her lap. "This leads well to the other answer. You must find your own reason to be Zeison Sha, your own fight to wage. Do not worry, it will come in time."

"Huh," Kamick nodded, looking down at the discblade in his hands. The heavy metal had a sense of history to it, hands learning over its length, blood shed upon its fins, blaster energy absorbed onto the skin. It had many uses, just as the Zeison Sha were diffuse. No central order, no commanders, all equal, all going in so many directions.

I suppose I'll know when I'm ready, he thought, recalling the moment he'd thrown the dromae on the tundra. That had opened him to the Force. Bet it'll take something else that drastic, he chuckle a little. Great.

"I'm going to take a bit of a break," he told Irina.

She nodded. "This hopping in the dark is helpful to no one, but necessary it seems. Necessity is rarely pleasant, something to remember."

"Yeah," It was the kind of solid, level-headed response he'd come to expect from her.

Rising carefully to avoid hitting his head, Kamick walked the few steps to the common area, to discover Ji and Drado rising from a just completed Dejarik game. The noblewoman saw him as she turned, heading toward the cockpit.

Drado said something low as she passed him.

Ji stopped. "An interesting idea," she said quietly. Turning toward him she added. "I have to go an plot the next jump. Drado suggests you take my next game."

Kamick looked toward the Kyuzo. The green-skinned alien was as unreadable and composed as always, but those orange eyes seemed particularly focused. Did he have something specific to say. "Sure," Kamick shrugged. "Why not?" He gave Ji a quick glance. "I'll hurt your record though, I'm terrible at Dejarik."

"Trivial," Ji smirked. "Besides it just gives me more time to plan new counters."

She left them then, and Kamick took a seat across from the warrior, focusing on the table. It'd been a while since he'd played, the other deputies or local homesteaders had favored sabaac, holotables being difficult to come by on Lavestral. Of course, it was hard to keep his eyes on the game and not Drado. Did the Kyuzo want something? Usually if the warrior had some request he was very forthright, and idle chatter never really happened.

Ji had won the last game, so Drado went first, leaving Kamick to follow. They played a handful of moves, and the deputy was quickly at a disadvantage. He adopted a defensive posture after that, and seemed to do better for a while, only to suddenly realize the Kyuzo had him trapped by a series of approaches he'd not thought at all possible.

"Too straightforward," Drado muttered in Huttese.

"What?" Kamick wasn't sure he was more surprised by the admonishment or the simple fact of the Kyuzo making a personal comment.

"Your weakness," the warrior supplied. "Too honest, too open. Strong, swift, solid, but no subterfuge." It took a moment to puzzle out the last word, Kamick's Huttese was not the greatest. "Maybe fine for a lawman, but not a soldier. Soldier's fight wars," Drado made a move that sealed the game completely. "Warfare is based on deception."

Kamick starred back and forth from the table to the Kyuzo, trying to puzzle out the meaning of the whole unexpected situation.

Drado stood up abruptly, ducking his head t the last moment to avoid striking the ceiling. "Remember, if you are Zeison Sha, discblades do not fly straight, they spin, and curve."

Leaving the deputy to ponder the strange words the warrior left, returning to the cockpit.

Kamick could only stare at the table. Deception? He wondered.

**Chapter Notes**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 – Before the Plunge**

**_Arcane Lash_, Geosynchronous Orbit**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

"No!" Dr. Entrene screamed, spitting mad. "We cannot leave this system! I am so close! So close!"

Temel had been shouted at by many people over the course of his career, including a number of superiors he did not respect, but even so, it was hard, very hard, to maintain proper military demeanor through this tirade. "Respectfully, the results on Kratovas speak for themselves. The Discblade Alliance is aware of us, and they intend to destroy this operation." There was no doubt in Temel's mind. The descriptions Captain Balten had given him for Smuggler's Run matched those of the security footage too closely. The Zygerrian had proved at least marginally useful before getting stupidly killed.

"They have no way to know where we are!" Entrene thundered, face red with his fury. "We are staying here! I will not lose everything just because of the army's incompetence on Kratovas!"

"Perfect security does not exist," Temel grimaced, crouching his anger behind his professionalism. "This enemy commando team is very skilled, they surely acquired data from our network. A highly trained slicer could break into our files, and then this location will be betrayed."

"The Discblade Alliance has no ability to slice Imperial encryption!" Entrene was no longer bothering with logic, simply declaiming. "And it does not matter! This mission will succeed!"

"My judgment does not match that conclusion doctor," Temel's voice was ice. "Eventually the Discblade Alliance will find this planet."

"Then destroy them when they get here Captain," Entrene hissed. "You have a whole frigate to work with, and half a squadron of fighters as well. If the motley resources of a handful of provincial wretches intimidates you, then I'm certain I can find a captain who is worthy of the department's backing."

Temel thought the threat empty, mostly. Anyone with career aspirations would refuse this posting. So would anyone with half a brain, he considered. No worthy military man would agree to work under an experimenter. "I will defend this position," he told the doctor, keeping his composure. "But my official report will recommend relocating this operation. We have too many commitments here."

"Your position is noted," Entrene replied stonily. "Now get out of my lab and get back to work. I am this close to the most important development in ground infantry since the Clone Army was created and I have no time for the objections of a washed-up commander with no confidence."

The remark stung. Washed-up? Temel wondered. Have I lost all confidence? Am I a coward now? He had to admit that his ship had advantages. Old though she was, it was still a Pelta-class frigate, and by the standards of the Kalat Arm a powerful vessel. Current intelligence suggested the Discblade Alliance had less than three frigates in their possession whatsoever, all stolen from the Empire. He ought to be able to stand against most assaults.

But the fighters of today are not the fighters of the Clone Wars. There were a number of advanced, high-powered models available, and Zeison Sha pilots could do things almost as incredible as Jedi in the cockpit. A quick strike could cripple this vessel. I need to find an appropriate counter, Temel decided. He was stuck in this position, guarding Entrene's disgusting research until the scientist either succeeded or imploded. I will not surrender this position without a fight.

He took the turbolift to the small hangar.

Most ships of this class were not equipped with fighters, but _Arcane Lash_ had been gifted half a squadron in place of additional cargo materials as part of some obtuse distribution of Imperial resources. The result was six Eta-2 Actis interceptors and a small stable of pilots to fly them.

"Captain on deck!" the flight lieutenant stood and saluted when Temel arrived, with the other pilots quickly rising to their feet and mimicking him.

"At ease," Temel rarely came down here, he had little interest in twenty-year old starfighters that were basically lousy TIE fighters with ion cannons. "I need a readiness update Lieutenant."

"We're good to go sir," he replied. "All fighters are functional at above ninety percent operational capability."

"That's what I needed to hear," Temel told them. "Security concerns have gone up, and to provide for a proper defense I intend to put a combat air patrol into place. Two fighters at all times, with two others at start-up readiness."

"Yes, sir, we can do that," the lieutenant answered.

In the navy, when the captain gives the order, it will be done, so a good officer has to be able to catch the slight cues of hesitation in the responses of subordinates. "What difficulty do you anticipate?"

"Well sir, these are old fighters, and they don't make the parts any more, so our supplies are rather short," the flight officer explained. "Running a pair all the time will put a lot of strain on the systems and makes it likely we'll damage some critical component and lose a fighter permanently."

Damn, Temel thought. The lieutenant was right. And if it comes to actual battle I'll need every fighter. It sounded like they had only one good fight left in them. "I see, but we need a rapid response option. The Discblade Alliance is likely to send in a scouting party, and we have to be on them before they can send out a response." That could buy weeks of time, maybe enough entirely, the captain knew. "What's the best option?"

"Sir we can keep a pair of fighters idling on the hangar deck," the lieutenant offered. "Ready to launch instantly. That will put less strain on the engines and none on the other components."

It was a forthright offer, the captain had to admit. It would mean pilots sitting in cramped cockpits for long hours without even the opportunity to joyride about the system on patrol. "Very good, set it up Lieutenant. I want the rest of you to run simulator drills to respond from that formation against every conceivable scouting array the Discblade Alliance might send against us. The Empire's counting on you."

"Sir!" the men responded in unison.

It was not the defensive setup Temel would have wished, but he felt better knowing he could send out fighters at any moment and not simply stand by helplessly as enemies flirted beyond the reach of his guns. If you're coming resistance, we'll be waiting for you. I'd give you Entrene, but you can't have my ship!

"One minute to realspace," Ji informed the rest of the group. "We have almost reached the target system. This jump should lodge us one thousandth of a parsec out from the system's star, close enough to get sensor data on celestial bodies but not to be detected."

Kamick sat behind Ji in the cockpit, waiting for the moment. What are we heading into? He wondered. They had really no idea of the system before them, or what the Empire might have hidden there. Ji believed it could not be that much, the Unknown Regions was a barrier to imperial resources the same as everyone else, but the deputy was not so certain. If I had the Empire's power and a real belief in this super-soldier project I'd park a whole rutting fleet there. Then again, he admitted. Security was pretty weak on Kratovas, and they were relying on Zygerrian errand boys, so maybe no one all that high up really believes.

"Realspace reversion," Ji announced, pushing up the hyperdrive lever.

"Data's coming in," Cyc started talking immediately. "System primary is a G-type star, which we already knew, enhanced spectral data says is quite old, likely to go red giant in only a hundred million years or so."

Kamick rolled his eyes, one hundred million or five billion, who cares when it's that long?

"Planetary system is old and stable as a result," the droid rambled on. "There's one outer-system gas giant, and two inner system planets, with little asteroid presence. Hard body analysis indicates a rather high iron content throughout the system, but limited deposition of heavier elements, interesting."

"The inner planets?" Ji prompted.

"So impatient," Cyc groused. "None of the gas giant moons imply habitability for standard life forms. The innermost planet is little more than a gigantic ball of iron, heated to immense temperatures. The second planet, however..." Cyc paused for dramatic effect. "Lives! We have a living world!"

"Is that a big deal?" Kamick couldn't really place the analysis unit's enthusiasm.

"Discovery of new life is always something to be celebrated," Irina spoke softly from the back. "Though considering the Empire has been here first there is perhaps nothing happy about it."

"Well that drops an ice bucket over it now doesn't it?" Cyc's retort was aptly chosen as he glared at the blue-haired woman. "Anyway, we've got an oxygen-nitrogen breathable atmosphere, looks like rather high noble gas concentration too, surprising. Temperature range seems stabilized across most of the planet, temperate with regular seasonality. I've got the presence of photosynthesis bioproducts confirmed, so there must be trees, probably a lot of them. No sign of industrial by-products in the atmosphere, but it's possible the population is small enough they wouldn't detected."

"How's that work?" Kamick wondered, not getting how the droid could know such a thing.

"There are chemical residues given off by advanced technology that produces spectral scatter unlike anything formed by natural processes," Cyc lectured, seemingly happy someone had taken an interest. "On a world like your homeworld, with a tiny and concentrated population, they would not be widespread enough to be detected, so from this distance, we have either possibility, though I would lean towards a low tech level, as is usually the case on Desga planets."

"Every explorer hopes to find the Desga species blessed with advanced technology," Ji commented mildly. "Especially those of the Discblade Alliance, but it has yet to happen. No Desga world yet discovered displays even independent space flight."

"I'm logging the rest," Cyc noted, still giddy. "But we might as well jump in, there are no stellar obstacles, and we're not going to see the Empire from here."

"I agree," Ji answered, but turned around to face everyone. Kamick saw her gaze was stern and focused. "This is a key moment. The Empire is surely waiting around this second planet. Be ready, they are no going to take our presence lightly. I want everyone at battle stations." She stood up. "Drado, take the pilot's station, the jump is already programmed. Kamick, you're on the blaster cannons, I will take the ion cannons." She turned to Cyc. "You're on engineering. I want a jump calculated to take us out of here as quickly as possible."

"On it," the droid acknowledged. Everyone knew the critical importance of that task.

She did not bother giving Irina a combat assignment. The Zeison Sha had admitted to no skill in space combat, but Kamick suspected that, like Xulin, there were things the Force go do unexpectedly to change the course of an engagement.

The blaster cannons protruded from the base of Nomad Sentry's forward spar, so the deputy's position was at the bottom of the ship's flying posture. Ji sat in a similar station several meters above his head. "Standby for jump on my mark," the noblewoman ordered. "Mark!"

Stars vanished into starlines for a second, then reverted as the microjump carried them from the edge of the system to orbit of the second planet.

Kamick blinked as a rusty, red-green orb with occasional flashes of blue appeared beneath him. It was a strangely familiar image, bringing back schoolboy lessons of what Lavestral was intended to resemble when the long process of reclamation was completed. It gave the deputy hope.

"We have Imperial contact!" Ji proclaimed. "Pelta-class frigate, IFF gives her as the _Arcane Lash_."

"What is with the names of Imperial ships?" Cyc quipped over the com. "Sick bastards."

"It is an expression of the Dark Side at work," Irina spoke softly in response.

Drado grunted something over the banter.

"Fighters coming in," Ji's voice was tight. "Fast, too fast," Kamick heard her whisper.

The deputy recognized the ships from old Clone Wars history holos. Eta-2 interceptors, fast and hard hitting. No missiles, at least, he thought positively. _Nomad Sentry_ could take a few laser blasts. "It's only two, we can take them."

"Yes," Ji projected confidence. "Cyc get us that vector out of here! We've seen enough."

Then the fighters were on them.

Laser cannons spat deadly streams of energy at the pinnace as the fighters flashed by, making full use of their considerable speed and maneuverability. Drado rolled the ship in response, pulling up on the enemy's vector.

Kamick pulled down the firing studs, going for a shot with the blasters.

He had a bead on a fighter for a moment, but the nimble interceptor juked him off, spinning away before he could make contact.

Ji had no better luck.

"Shields holding, but that Pelta's moving up," Cyc noted. "I'm calculating, but this planet's got an awfully thick iron core, we're going to need extra clearance."

"The enemy has launched additional fighters," Irina's voice remained totally calm.

The deputy saw them, four additional blips on his scan.

"Cyc, relay our findings and route via subspace," Ji ordered, still fully in control. "Eyes up, they're making another pass."

Kamick focused down on his enemy, waiting for them to come by. He was not in fully control, the blasters could rotate, but they were not turreted. He had to rely on Drado's piloting to get him a shot.

The Etas screamed by, and this time in addition to lasers there was another component.

Crackling discharges of electrical energy spat out of the little ships. The disruptive strikes of ion cannons!

"Reroute all power to combat systems and engines!" Ji ordered even as she fired. Lights went out across the ship.

Can't waste my shots, Kamick knew, his fingers sweating over the firing stud.

Drado rotated the nimble Nomad Sentry in a surprising maneuver.

The enemy fighters reacted.

Ji's going to fire, that'll drive one to roll, Kamick recognized the move. Which way?

Left! He knew it suddenly, and fired even as the enemy began the move.

Ruby bolts tracked into the ball cockpit and the fighter exploded.

"Good shot!" Ji complimented.

"The others are closing!" Kamick realized, looking at the four fighters coming in for another pass.

Drado barked something.

"They're coming in slower, going for a sustained strike," Ji acknowledged. "Reroute all discretionary power to shields! We have to survive this barrage."

"On it!" Cyc replied, the droid sounding taxed, trying to manage many systems at once. "Survive this and we'll be clear for hyperspace."

The interceptors attacked.

At this speed they're easier to hit! Kamick slammed down the firing stud, targeting the lowest fighter in the formation.

The imperial pilot juked up, directly into the path of Ji's ion cannons.

He spun into a spinning roll, powerless and out of control.

Enemy fire mixed with those of the defenders, and _Nomad Sentry_ shook and bucked with each hit.

"We're taking too many ion hits!" Ji shouted over the rocking.

"Rear shields failing!" Cyc shrieked. "I can't reroute the power, there's too many offline circuits."

_Nomad Sentry_ was hit, hard, and the ship rolled wildly for a second, failing inertial dampers threw Kamick against his seat, like a great fist to crush him.

Not going down yet! The deputy gritted his teeth, and then grabbed not with his muscles, but the Force, throwing energy back at the weight upon him.

The bantha on his chest vanished, and he saw a loose fighter pulling about. Got you!

A single laser blast slammed through an ion engine, detonating the fighter in a tremendous burst of flame.

The survivor of the original pair returned to Kamick's flickering screen at that moment, coming back across to hit them again.

"Your fallen fill the emptiness," the deputy heard Irina say, and suddenly a flurry of debris pelted the returning fighter.

Instead of passing just below his comrades the fighter spun out of control, into a head on collision with another fighter.

They burst apart in a tangled mass of ruined components and weaponry.

"Drado, get us to lightspeed!" Ji demanded, the woman's voice was hoarse and pained, but her command was absolute.

"We can't!" Cyc shouted back. "The last hit struck the main engines! The hyperdrive's wrecked!"

We are so dead, Kamick thought as he saw the last fighter coming in for the kill on the wounded pinnace.

There was a moment of terrible silence as the interceptor fired.

Drado did something unexpected.

The Kyuzo cut all engine power.

Ji, reacting to the unexpected move as if she'd anticipated it her whole life, fired her ion cannons continuously, aiming at nothing.

Nomad Sentry spun on a completely different vector from her previous course.

Kamick found he was staring down both barrels at the Eta, and the flight-suited Imperial was staring back at him.

Both men fired.

Nomad Sentry shook hard, taking the bolts in her mid-section.

The starfighter blew apart.

"Get us...on the ground," Kamick heard Ji order, with severe pain evident in her voice. "Wrap around the planet, avoid the Pelta's sensors, we can try to conduct...repairs...from there."

Even as she spoke, the deputy was ripping free his harness buckles and dashing up the ladder.

He saw the blood from the back of her chair, leaking all over the floor.

The last hits had penetrated the hull, sending shards of durasteel flying about. Ji had been struck in right side at the bottom of the ribcage.

"Rut!" the deputy grabbed the straps and began to pull them free.

Ji paid no attention to her wounds. "Cyc, can we land the ship?" she remained focused on giving orders, barely acknowledging Kamick working around her. The deputy was terribly impressed. Stow it, he thought. She's doing what she's got to do, so I'd better help her.

"It won't be easy," the droid answered, sounding fearful. "There's been a lot of damage to several thrusters."

"I will help as I can," Kamick heard Irina speak as he pulled Ji from her seat.

"Good," Ji commented. "Drado, get us as close to whatever civilization you can find." She slumped down, unable to help Kamick support her.

"Save it," the deputy snapped at her. "We'll get down," he wrapped both arms around her waist, suddenly glad Ji was such a small woman. Then he pushed out and used the Force to boost them down into the common area. "Cyc get over here! Ji's hurt bad!" I can do first aid, but the droid's our best medic.

Cyc was there in a flash. "Oh, rut, that looks bad. Hold her to the deck!" The droid directed, grabbing a medpack from among his gear and ripping it open on the plating. "She's losing blood fast, I need you to administer painkillers, clotting agents, and start an IV drip. I'll remove the shrapnel."

"Right," Kamick nodded tersely. He used his left hand to hold Ji in place and grabbed the autoinjector. He jabbed it into Ji's arm, not gently, and began to administer the meds.

The droid's orange hands moved swiftly, his finger movements precise and efficient, pulling shard after shard of metal and administering quick sprays of antiseptic and spray bandage as he went. There was blood and tissue all over the floor and Ji groaned and ground her teeth with every lurch of the ship as it passed into the planet's atmosphere.

Kamick pricked a vein and placed the temporary IV in place, watching extra fluids start to flow into the small woman.

"Got them all!" Cyc spoke triumphantly. He pulled a small vial of fluid out of the medpack and placed it to noblewoman's mouth. "I need you to swallow all of this."

"I know," Ji answered weakly.

"Wish this was bacta, but I guess it's the best we can do out here," Cyc poured the contents of the vial down Ji's throat.

"What is it?" Kamick demanded.

"Nesrel Extract, from Shanev," Cyc explained. The deputy had heard of the planet, a desga world with many valuable pharmaceuticals. "It promotes rapid formation of blood cells, useful in an injury like this, but only if we keep the wound closed and clean."

"We are coming in on the surface," Kamick heard Irina from the cockpit.

"Go," Ji whispered, catching the look on the deputy's face. He burned with shame at considering leaving her in this state. "You cannot help me more, if you can aid Irina, do it."

"Right," It didn't feel right, but the deputy obeyed the order, knowing in his head that Ji was correct. The crash could kill Ji, he told himself, and raced to the cockpit.

"What can I do?" he asked his Zeison Sha teacher.

"I will steady the ship as we fall," the blue-haired woman was looking out the cockpit, passed an intensely focused Drado, as a sea of dirty red-green trees passing below them. "You should try to hold everyone in place, keep them from slamming into the walls."

"Can't maintain low-altitude flight," Drado cursed in Huttese, the warrior's hands wrestled with the controls. "Going down."

Knowing that staring outside only fed his fear, and made it impossible to do anything, Kamick closed his eyes. He reached out in the Force, feeling Irina beside him, Drado before him, and Ji lying on the plating behind. From there he was able to trace the outline of Cyc, though the droid was harder to envisage, with no living energy to separate him from the walls and furniture of the ship. One by one he linked his presence to their own, feeling the rumbling motion passing through each, the movements of the bodies. He grabbed hold strongly, ready to push.

_Nomad Sentry_ clipped the trees.

The ship was wrenched into a flat spin.

Kamick felt it, and pressed down, holding everyone to the deck, to the solid plating of the ship. Come on, little lady, get us on the ground! He prayed.

Drado growled in his own language, the Kyuzo's cursing flaying at the ship, the Empire, and the universe in general.

Cyc screamed, Ji moaned in pain, and Irina was silent.

The spinning became erratic as durasteel hull plating snapped through tree trunks one after another.

Kamick felt the shaking would surely rip the ship apart.

Then he felt Irina reach out in the force with all the strength she possessed.

The Zeison Sha did not grab _Nomad Sentry_, but pulled at the wind, a great cloud of air before them, buffeting them and cushioning the crash, a volminous pillow of air in front of the ship.

Still at bone crushing speed the ship smashed into the hard earth.

Kamick held on with everything he could muster.

It wasn't enough.

He lost Cyc first, then his own body and Irina's, and finally Drado.

His focused stayed with Ji till he struck the other side of the cockpit, driving the wind from his lungs and rattling his whole body.

"Ugh, rut," Kamick managed a moment later when his body decided to obey once more. "Are we still alive?"

"Yes," Irina said simply, the maskri woman was tangled up in his legs, and had several bruises on her face.

"I live to fight yet," Kamick could barely understand the Kyuzo's words, but he turned his blurry vision to look at the warrior. Drado appeared fully functional, he had been strapped into the pilot's chair and sparred the worst of it.

"We're okay!" Cyc called from the back. "Ji's lost consciousness, and I'm re-patching her wounds, but she'll survive."

Kamick fell a great burst of joy in his chest. Thank the cinders, he thought. I didn't lose anyone.

"_Nomad Sentry_ is damaged," Drado noted. "I do not think she can fly," the Kyuzo's voice was steady, but Kamick thought he detected worry on the green-skinned alien's face for the first time.

"Really? Let me see," the deputy rose to his feet, discovering in the process that every part of his body ached immensely. Rut, the Force sure takes it out of you, especially when you throw in a major crash. Gritting his teeth he managed to pull up a diagnostic routine on the nearest console. "Pretty bad, yeah," he looked it over. Starships were not his thing, but Lavestral had made for plenty of practical mechanical experience. "Hyperdrive's shot, and the repulsors are completely burned through, but it looks like the primary sublight drive suffered only minor damage. We can make space with a few bypasses, though maneuverability will be bad."

"Then we must camouflage the ship," Drado directed, his Huttese becoming more intelligible with each sentence. "Before Imperial sensors detect us."

"Right," Kamick looked at Irina. "Let's do it."

"I agree," the Zeison Sha nodded, and they set to work.

Nomad Sentry had landed partly on her side, and much of the lower hull section was buried in the dirt, which made getting out tricky. Placing the camo netting was not difficult, a little boost from the Force made putting spikes and lines in place simplicity itself. Kamick took the chance to look at the forest around them while they worked.

It was much like a normal forest in many ways. The trees were not familiar to him, but then he'd seen rather few trees in his lifetime. The color red was unexpectedly dominant however, a faded rusty shade seeping into everything. The soil was tinged with it, as were the plants in the undergrowth and canopy. The sun, however, shown down with burnished golden rays, not the ash-tinged gray pallor of Lavestral or the weakened orange of Kratovas. I wonder who lives here? Kamick considered as he tied down the last few spokes. It seems a pleasant enough place.

When they returned to the inside of the ship Ji was seated propped up on her bunk, and Cyc was up to his elbows in grease and components laboring on the engine. "Where do we stand?" Ji asked him weakly when they returned.

"We've camouflaged the ship against detection," he told her, trying to stay positive. "But unless Cyc's got some kind of miracle in store for the hyperdrive we're not leaving this system." It was a depressing thought. He hoped Ji had some kind of plan.

"I see," she did not sound hopeful, though of course it could just be the injury. That would take the strength from anyone. "Cyc, what is the status of our hyperdrive?"

The droid clanked up to the rest of the group, looking miserable indeed. "Busted," he shook his head directly. "Portions of the field guide got melted to scrap by laserfire. Without replacements we can't engage at all."

"And our prospects for finding such units?" Ji requested.

"Bad," Cyc's assessment was brutal. "I looked at the scans we took during the fight. This planet has civilization, but it's pre-industrial, no electricity, probably not even steam power, none of the tools for making the right alloys. We'd have to find a crashed ship or something, good luck with that."

"What can we do with the ship?" Ji must have been as devastated as Kamick was by this assessment, but she let no sign of it show on her face. Her control was even more impressive considering her injuries.

"We've no repsulors functional, but the sublight drives work," Cyc confirmed Kamick's earlier conclusion. "We can fly around the system, though she's not up for much in the way of combat maneuvers."

"I see," Ji noted carefully, eyes scanning the rest of them. "Well, that is something. We destroyed the Empire's fighters, and no more have since come after us, so it seems that half-squadron was all they had. Pelta-class frigates were not designed as carriers, so that makes sense."

"What do we do now?" Kamick wondered. "It sounds like we're stranded, and on an unknown system."

"I got the subspace transmission off," Cyc informed them. "The imperials tried to jam it, but at least most of it got through. When we don't return the Discblade Alliance should eventually come looking."

"We can hope for that," Ji acknowledged wanly. "But we must do what we can on our own, and not expect rescue." she turned to Kamick. "This planet is not precisely unknown. There is an Imperial frigate in orbit. Our best chance is to try and steal a ship or hyperdrive components from them."

It was a good idea, Kamick admitted, though he wasn't sure about their chances. How many hyperdrives were the imperials likely to leave lying about?

"However, that will be some steps down the road," Ji explained to everyone. "We know nothing about this world, its people, or why the Empire is interested in it. We shall have to try and make contact with the locals."

"If the Empire's taking slaves here they're not likely to be friendly," Kamick considered. He wouldn't be, if it was his planet.

"We are not the Empire," Irina said quietly. "Convincing them is simply a difficulty to address."

"Quite," Ji nodded, and winced. "This injury is an aggravation," her face twisted in anger. "But I will recover, and we cannot stay here long. Gather traveling gear and provisions," she ordered. "Cyc, plot a path to the nearest population center. We shall begin there."

"You're really not ready to travel," the droid opined, rubbing his hands together nervously.

"Kamick and I can carry her," Irina offered. The deputy stared at her oddly. Ji's not very heavy, but even I can't carry her for that long. "There is a trick of the Force," the Zeison Sha explained. "I will show you."

Oh, Kamick accepted. Figures that there would be.

**Chapter Notes**

Eta-2s, being light, fast interceptors, were rapidly outdated following the Clone Wars, and it would be only the lowest-priority Imperial commands that would still use such ships.

At this distance from major hyperlanes, bacta becomes prohibitively expensive, and so local, lesser products take its place.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 – Dark Moves**

**_Arcane Lash_, Geosynchronous Orbit**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

"With respect ma'am," Temel gritted his teeth in frustration. "I need reinforcements, the position here is precarious, we have been discovered by the Discblade Alliance and I've lost my fighter screen." Damn the Zeison Sha anyway! He thought. It had to be that, there was no other way to explain the combat results.

"I've already made it quite clear Captain Ruskar," the voice on the other end was utterly unmoved. "I do not have anything I can spare for your operation. We are overstretched as it is, something you know very well."

Temel looked into the stern face of Captain Brenna Tivin, the senior imperial navy officer in the whole Kalat Arm, and despaired. How do I appeal to her? She was completely correct, every unit they had was desperately needed where it was, the resistance continued to grow in power daily, and with the outbreak of rebellion Imperial Center was even less receptive to the demands of the frontier than before. "There was a Zeison Sha on the ship that attacked us, maybe more than one," he tried. "I need fighters to track them on the ground. If I can just locate them it's a few quick turbolaser blasts and that's the end of it. Even a unit of combat airspeeders would make a difference," he caught the look in her eyes and revised his request down even further. "Or a few scout platoons if nothing else."

"Captain, I cannot spare anything," Captain Tivin paused. "Let me be frank with you captain," she added. "You are sitting on a Pelta-class frigate attached to a planet we have no forces to pacify completely and capable of offering no threat to our forces should they withdraw. You want my support, bring your ship to a contested planet, or even anywhere with an imperial garrison. You don't have to risk combat with those scientists aboard, but let me get something out of the ship, free up my own troops. Without that, I won't spare a single blaster to an operation outside the chain of command."

"Dr. Entrene categorically refuses to leave ma'am!" Temel protested. He agreed with her point, more or less, but it had him out in the cold here. "I can't override him, he's got authority directly from Imperial Center." He had a desperate idea of a negotiating tactic. "If it was the Shadow Guard, you'd heed his request."

Captain Tivin blanched. Everyone knew she was so frightened of Yanibar's de facto ruler, even if he was nominally her subordinate, she'd bow to his every whim. He thought for a second he had her.

The Captain-of-the-Line's expression hardened. "Jasrol Mintran produces results, captain," she told him harshly. "Whatever his methods he has a row of Zeison Sha heads on display outside his fortress and keeps dozens more occupied with simply trying to kill him off. He reports to the Emperor himself, and does not ask for assistance to mitigate his failures. I cannot say the same of scientists pursuing some pipe dream secret project for which I have not been cleared to receive so much as a briefing on their operations. You report to some shadowy department on Imperial Center, completely outside the chain of command. I report to Moff Newvash and my superiors in the Imperial Navy, until such a time as I receive orders to do so it is not my intention to dispatch any forces under my command to protect someone's pet project. If Dr. Entrene does not wish to relocate, then I suggest you get him to solve your problems. Good day captain."

The transmission came to an abrupt end.

I suppose I should have expected that, Temel sighed weakly. A moment later his anger returned. Damn you forever Entrene! His anger drove his feet to the turbolifts, sustaining him down to the labs. Captain Tivin's right, he thought furiously. If Entrene wants us to stay, he'd better provide something to help, or I'm taking the ship to a defensible system, whatever his objections! Having lost the six pilots to Force-assisted fire, Temel's restraint had broken. He had half a mind to shoot the doctor, space his lackeys and claim them as battle casualties then head home.

The laboratories were worse then ever.

The flow of slaves from other worlds had stopped, now they were taking them all from the planet below.

It's a slaughterhouse in here! Temel stifled the urge to vomit. Entrene had his techs working ceaselessly, carving people up and running all kind of tests on the pieces. The clearing droids couldn't keep up, blood lay in puddles in corners, and specks of leftover flesh clung to all sorts of surfaces, residues of spray from fast and dirty dismemberment. This isn't science, the captain swore. It's necromancy!

"Captain!" Dr. Entrene recognized his entrance and hurried over. His white lab-coat had blood all over it, and the man reeked of death worse than anything Temel had ever seen. "I am extremely busy, why are you bothering me?"

"Captain Tivin has refused even the idea of reinforcements," he snapped back. The air stank of blood and metal, and the captain channeled his discomfort into rage. "So there's absolutely no help in finding our intruders. That's not acceptable."

"Their ship crashed," Entrene's mind was clearly elsewhere. "It's not an issue."

"Listen to me, damn it!" Temel's composure broke. He grabbed the shocked scientist by the lapels of his lab-coat and slammed him against the wall. "I've got no fighters! You've got every one of my soldiers and over half my crew on the surface doing your dirty work for you! We're wide open up here and the Discblade Alliance knows where we are! That ship may have crashed, but there were Zeison Sha aboard, and it'll take more than that to kill them! Do you really want to just wait until one finds some way onto this ship? How long do you think it'll take for them to condemn and execute you for this!" He waved an arm to indicate everything in the lab.

Entrene's eyes narrowed, and he carefully tapped his fingers against Temel's hands, but he wisely did not push back. "You can let go Captain, I see your point."

Rage fading slightly, Temel realized what he was doing and quietly let go, his hands shaking. Damn, he could have me executed for that! He blanched in sudden fear.

Entrene did not appear angry in the slightest, he looked oddly thoughtful instead. It was as if his focus on rapidly advancing research had overridden his emotions completely. "Perhaps there is a risk," he admitted absently. "The Force defies science, and though the Zeison Sha shall soon become irrelevant, it would not be unwise to exercise some measure of caution." He turned and looked about his lab, assessing things with a mind Temel simply could not understand. "You wish to leave captain, and I cannot allow that. This stage is too critical, and a continued supply of samples from the planet absolutely essential. Every one brings us a step closer to realizing the dream. We are only days away from completion."

Really? Temel didn't believe it, but he'd never seen Entrene express such confidence before. The scientists had always shied away from concrete measures of his progress.

"The data from Kratovas was the key, as I said," Entrene was not speaking to anyone now, the captain wasn't even sure the doctor saw his surroundings. "All that remains are bioengineering issues, technical problems really. We will solve them inevitably, it simply requires time and test subjects. But you do not care about that," he turned back to Temel. "You want to track down these fugitives, correct?"

"That's right," the captain admitted. "I just need a location, I'll blast them down from orbit if we can do that. No reason to take chances with Zeison Sha."

"Keep your mind on enemies from space," Entrene spoke patronizingly. "That is where your expertise is needed. These fugitives shall be dealt with."

"How?" Temel didn't understand what Entrene was offering. He'd hoped to get the doctor to authorize reinforcements, but his gut told him the man had something else in mind.

"With the Kratovas data we are certain to complete the second iteration of the project," the doctor explained. "Reaching the ultimate objective. Soon the Empire's armies will be unbeatable. Given this certainty, I feel it is no longer necessary to keep around the functional stage one test units. They are less capable than what I had desired in any case, as that portion of the project has been frozen until we complete the second generation, but they will be more than capable of tracking down and eliminating a few leftovers."

"Stage one units..." Temel's mind reeled. Entrene had functional subjects...

"There are thirty-nine of the stage one units operational at this time. Most are in tank storage, but it will take only a few hours to activate them and provide instructions. I will send them down with the next shuttle run," Entrene continued seamlessly. "That should be sufficient, don't you think captain?"

"I...I...imagine it will have to be," he muttered weakly. He had never thought to see Entrene actually use his creations. Never thought the doctor could accomplish anything but a lot of pointless bloodshed, that great Imperial export. What has he done? What has he unleashed on the galaxy?

"Well then," Entrene brushed past him. "If you will excuse me, I have a great deal of work to do, this is an exiting time."

"Right, very good," Walking as if in a fog, Temel quickly took the turbolift out of the lab and returned to his cabin. There he brought up his terminal and accessed the lab system. What have you done Entrene? He'd deliberately avoided paying close attention, because of the terrible nature of the experiments. I was a fool, Temel thought. A captain always knows everything that's happening on his ship! He'd committed a cardinal sin of naval command. Time to make up for it.

Entrene didn't trust anyone, of course, the doctor had all the lab files locked down securely, accessible to no one but him and his lackeys. Or so he thought.

Temel had commanded a great many Peltas over the years, ever since he'd first earned his command wings back in the Clone Wars, and he knew everything there was to know about the ships. Their modular nature contained a particular security flaw. The ability to change out modules gave the ships great adaptability between missions, but whenever such a shift was made the system of the new components had to be integrated with existing permanent parts of ship. To do that at the speed of warfare the chief engineering officer had to be given complete administrator access. That access was normally disabled by the captain at the renewal of operations, and Temel had done so on this mission.

What he had also done, what he always did in order to provide him with an extra tool to command his ship in a crisis, was copy those privileges to his own account in the process.

It was time to learn just what Entrene intended to do, and what, if anything, he should do about it.

"Well, that isn't good," Kamick's head turned as Cyc spoke. The droid had spoken up completely unprompted as they made their way through the rusty forest. It was unusual. He felt a weird tingling in the Force. It wasn't likely to be nice.

"What is it?" Ji asked, sounding tired. The squad leader was presently clinging to Irina's back, and the indignity of being carted along combined with her injury to strain her.

"Well, my field kit's sampler has completed the soil analysis I began on the samples I took when we got started." the droid answered.

That had been only minutes after leaving Nomad Sentry, the deputy recalled. Cyc had been sampling compulsively every chance he got. The slow pace they were making due to Ji's injury left the droid plenty of time for it. He was positively joyous about the whole thing. The only one of them in a good mood.

"And?" Ji prompted testily.

"It seems this planet is not as pleasant as it initially appears," Cyc said grumpily, deliberately making them wait. "It hosts a rather nasty cocktail of soil-dwelling organisms."

"Wait?" Kamick looked at the droid, then at the reddish dirt beneath his boots. "The ground's poisonous?"

"Dinoflagellates living in the moisture between soil particles actually," Cyc sounded somewhat amused, even as Kamick's eyes roved in something close to panic. "And they aren't poisonous or toxic exactly, more like corrosive." The deputy stared at the droid, wondering how he could sound so serene. Oh, right, he realized a moment later. He's a machine, it doesn't matter to him.

"What exactly do these microbes do?" Ji demanded. Kamick suspected she knew what a dinoflagellate was, when he hadn't a clue.

"Well, provisionally, they consume skin cells," Cyc shrugged. "It doesn't appear to be a predatory action, it's actually something that their wastes will do. The native life of this planet has a different epidermal structure than human skin, and isn't affected. Drado has nothing to worry about, I should think."

"I suspect my own skin is human enough to suffer with them, however," Irina spoke simply, and Cyc nodded in confirmation.

"Our skin's going to rot away 'cause of microbe poodo?" Kamick couldn't believe it. "What kind of nujit-spawn are these things?"

"Actually," Cyc noted with amusement. "It is somewhat similar to the fecal excretions of nujits, which are used to process their food and then rein-"

"Cyc, enough," Ji's face took on a sour expression. "How long will this process take?"

"Um..." The droid looked at his datapad, punching in a few quick calculations. "Well, there's probably a fair amount of variation, but it's not a quick process. Fatal degradation would probably set in a five to six months, with loss of function maybe a month before that."

Kamick felt considerable relief at this statement. At least I have half a year before my skin melts off, he thought wryly.

Ji probed a bit further. "And is this treatable, correctable?"

"Sure, there's not likely to be any permanent damage if the proper topical treatments are used," Cyc nodded, then added darkly. "None which we actually possess, however."

"Then we shall have to strive to make our stay here relatively short," Ji answered, grimacing slightly as Irina made a little hop over a fallen log.

"Wait a minute," Kamick interrupted after about a minute's further walking. "The Desga colonists were human, right? So how can there be anyone living here?"

Cyc stopped dead is his tracks. "That is a very good question," the droid said after a few moments silence. "They must have developed an interesting adaptation to these conditions. There's no way they could synthesize treatments at the current tech level."

"We can speculate further when we meet them," Ji added, taking this in stride. "It will not be too long to reach the city we detected, and we should hit farmland soon."

The current terrain was rough, marshy, and not plowed. Cyc had earlier explained that all the trees were below a certain age, suggesting selective logging by the residents. At their current pace they would hit farmed territory mid-morning tomorrow. Looking at the dirt with some trepidation, and resolving to get as little on him as possible, Kamick kept walking steadily. And I thought it was such a pleasant planet, he thought. Looks like I was wrong. Are there any nice worlds in the Kalat Arm?

**Chapter Notes**

Dinoflaggellates are a real class of microorganisms, and some are quite toxic, being the ones that cause Red Tides.

In case you didn't catch Cyc's little remark: Nujits get food by excreting onto their prey, waiting until this causes everything within to melt, and then reabsorbing the now nutrient rich fecal matter. I think that makes them disgusting enough to be an expletive.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 – Shifting Steel**

**Lowland Forests, Renigh**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

Chloe kept to the shadows as she moved through the trees. Her steps were light and delicate, silent against the soil beneath her feet. Her breath came in deft draws through the fabric of her mask, soundless but strong. The forest failed to notice her as she passed, unseen.

Her eyes roved from place to place, and her ears were perked to any disturbance. All her well-trained senses at their peak. If there was anything here, she swore it would not escape her hunt.

Something came from the sky in these woods, she knew, she had seen it with her own eyes. Her orders were clear, find this thing, or those it bore, and deal with them. It had not come as the others had, and had landed far from anyone, but her masters claimed it a danger. She had no reason to doubt it, and fully agreed.

If the enemy is here, I will find them, and put and end to them. Her fingers brushed up against the daggers lying in the concealed hilts beneath her waistguards. She was not without fear of the enemy, but continued forward without hesitation.

If I must die, so be it. They will fall, she vowed.

She had found no trail as yet, but this did not surprise her. If the enemy was headed from where the sky-craft had last been seen to the nearest people, she would come across them from the front. Chloe did not desire an attack from that direction, but she could not waste time. The hour was desperate indeed.

It was nearly evening now, she could hear the night-leapers beginning their songs from the trees. The small animals were no threat to her, and their low chirps provided an extra layer of noise to cloak her movements, though they made it less likely she would hear anything. The golden moon was not out tonight, and the blue moon's light was a pale, weak thing. Her night vision was well-honed, but she did not relish trying to track by such limited light. Better to find them before night falls, she knew.

Passing beneath a large blow-down, Chloe caught a whiff of scent. There was little wind beneath the trees, but this opening had just enough of a gust to tantalize.

Char, she thought. Someone is burning something.

It could be a poacher, there was always that possibility, or a mendicant wandering across the forest, but she did not believe that to be so. The times were too dangerous, and the people had fled these lands. Would the enemy build a fire? She had no idea if they had need of such things, but perhaps one of their weapons had struck a tree. They caused burns, it could produce such smell.

She moved, wraith-like, towards the source. Smell was not an easy thing to track, especially without the aid of wind, and this was no great scent, but it was enough for orientation. After that, Chloe followed her instincts, eyes constantly searching for the sign she sought.

A clearing emerged in the distance. It was the result of another blowdown, they were common in the weak soil of this forest, and often happened if a tree was let grow too long before harvest. She could see the smoke now, not much of it, but there was surely a little fire in that clearing.

Her right hand went to her left hip, reaching for the long flat-bladed katar sheathed there. With practiced motion she soundlessly drew it out and fitted her hands to the grip. She felt better having the long blade before her. It was a part of her arm, and made her into a weapon.

Keeping low, a deep crouch, her armor flexing carefully as she moved, Chloe crept forward, trying to grasp what was before her.

There were five figures, and only one faced outward. The clearing was not new, it bore the signs of a temporary campsite used each season by the loggers. These were not such, and had simply co-opted the site.

Chloe skittered around, avoiding the tall figure who kept watch. He was greater in stature than any she had seen, and wore a strange wide, flat hat. She had not observed the like before, not even on the enemy, but who knew their ways. As she narrowed the distance, it was possible to get a closer glimpse of both this guard and the others. The four at the small campfire appeared to be sharing a meal, but she could only see the backs of two. One was a man of good size, and strong build. He wore brown clothing, squared and sharp.

Enemy! Chloe thought. It was not exactly as she had seen on them, but the resemblance was strong. He wore one of their weapons on his hip, and oddly, carried a battered, mirror-like rectangle. After a moment she realized it was a shield, but she had never seen the enemy carry anything of such a kind, and it looked so frail, how could it guard? This man was seated across from two women, both were small, shorter than she was. One wore split skirt of gray-green somewhat similar to a riding outfit, the other an odd dress with a strange bow. Her hair is bluer than the blue moon!

Chloe's training prevented her from making any sound, but she had never seen anything of the kind. These outsiders were not like the enemy she had seen so far, and nothing like she had heard tales. Next to the man was another one with her back to her. It was not a person at all, but a thing of black and orange plates and pieces. One of their strange machines, the first I have seen. The enemy were said to have such devices, things no priest or wizard could comprehend, that could speak like men. They were used to bear burdens, or to run the enemy's massive machines and fortifications. So, only four then, she did not think this automaton much of a threat.

The one who stood watch, that one surely was. He was no man, nor machine. A green-skinned creature, what is it? The enemy were all like men, or the horn-faced ones, but this being was neither. He was as tall as the tallest of men Chloe had ever met beneath that strange hat, and wore robes like a mendicant, though of strange composition. He carried one of the enemy's weapons, but she also saw many knives, narrow things not so different from her own throwing daggers. He is a warrior, she recognized. Very dangerous. Can I kill him? She was not sure. It would require surprise, she guessed.

But he is not like the enemy, she worried, a troubling thing, her cloak of surety wavering. He was a different kind, and though surely there could be more than two, it was thing outside her knowledge. Is this outsider one of the enemy? She wanted a secure order, or a priest she could ask. Uncertainty was no part of her business.

Possibilities passed through her mind, and she quickly chose one. She could not expect to remain undetected forever.

The uniformed one, he must be enemy, Chloe decided. He wears the garb, so he must command. I will take him, then the others will obey me. If they refuse, then I will kill him and take those I can with me. It was a choice that satisfied. Without their leader the threat would be gone, it was the best way to complete her mission.

She began her final approach.

Kamick picked at the generally tasteless rations, looking at the flickering of the fire. He was glad Ji had allowed the small blaze. It was keeping the bugs and lesser creatures away, a blessing. The wildlife of the planet had proven surprisingly curious about Drado and Cyc, and the deputy didn't want to see another thing leap into the droid's face. It had prompted far too many irritated complaints the last time.

"So tomorrow we will hopefully make first contact," Ji was explaining again. "I expect these people to be very cautious, I doubt the Empire has made them friendly to outsiders. We shall have to be on our guard, but it is essential to avoid incidents. We cannot-"

Kamick stopped paying attention. He felt a prickling at the back of his neck. Something in the Force? He wondered.

A moment later the full import struck.

The deputy spun about, grabbing his shield and going for his blaster.

He was half a second too late.

Kamick found he was staring down most of a meter worth of sharp steel, a flat, triangular blade that connected to a fist in a gauntlet of tarnished bronzed metal. Stretching up from this was an arm in exquisitely crafted mail, stretching out from the body of a slender young woman. She was covered head to toe in mail, with the plating extending at knees, elbows, waist, chest, and other vulnerable points. There was a sharp throwing dagger in her left hand. Her face was obscured by a thin black mask that rose to just below the eyes, and encompassed by a deep hood with an inset flap dropping down over her forehead. Long red scarves trailed down both sides of her back. He could truly see nothing but the eyes, cold and focused, but strangely alluring.

"Deplace et muere!" she hissed. Her voice was smooth and strong, forceful but unpolished.

"Okay, okay!" Kamick did his best to comply, dropping his shield and taking his hand from his blaster. It was only after that was done that he noticed something else equally important.

The alien woman's blade was at his neck, but Irina's discblade was behind hers.

Trained Zeison Sha senses had proven equal to the task where Kamick had been too late.

Irina pushed the blade in just enough to press against the lower edge of the mask.

"Invraisel," the woman whispered.

"Cyc," Ji said quietly. "It seems contact has come earlier than expected," the noblewoman's voice projected total calm, as if the strange woman had simply walked up. "Are you able to translate?"

Kamick noticed the woman's eyes wander to Ji as she spoke, and he could feel tension mixed with confusion pour off her in the Force. He was feeling similar emotions himself. You'd better be able to translate Cyc, I'd rather not find out who's fastest by enduring a stab wound.

"Since all Desga languages are essentially heavily derived versions of Basic, yes, I can translate," the droid offered. "Once my algorithm has gained a sufficient sample to work with."

Say something, Kamick willed the woman, even though he had the feeling she was some kind of commando and was naturally little more talkative than Drado.

Her eyes flashed to the droid then back to Ji. "Ete-ouv l'mennien?" she asked, sounding truly puzzled. "Qeu cy ouv?"

"We are not your enemy," Ji responded, still calm, having apparently guessed what she was trying to say. "I am Jia Ji, these are my companions." She paused. "Cyc, can you manage that?"

"I'm no protocol droid," Kamick heard the analysis unit answer, not exactly filling him with confidence. "But I believe so." He repeated Ji's remarks in the alien woman's language, even managing a decent imitation of Ji's voice.

The woman did not relax, or remove her blade. She stared at Ji, and spoke rapidly in her own tongue.

"She wants us to prove it," Cyc translated.

Great, Kamick thought. These people really do hate the Empire, he recognized. This woman thinks all outsiders are Imperials. Under the circumstances, he couldn't blame her, but it didn't make things easy.

"So she does," Ji recognized easily. "Very well, Irina, release her."

"I do not believe that wise," the Zeison Sha admonished. "This one is dangerous fighter, and she has a measure of Force ability, weak, but still dangerous."

This surprised Kamick to hear, but it also made him feel slightly better about being ambushed. Irina had told him about Force abilities to enhance stealth.

"That doesn't matter," Ji was unperturbed. "Do it."

"Very well," Kamick watched the maskri, and the insurance she offered, take three steps back. I really hope you didn't just get me killed Ji. Despite this, he found he trusted the noblewoman's judgment completely.

Behind him he heard Ji stand, and a small gasp of pain.

The woman snapped off another question.

"She's curious about your wound," Cyc explained, sounding as if this was illogical from his perspective.

"An injury suffered during our arrival," Ji answered, walking slowly over to Kamick.

The alien woman gestured with the knife in her left hand, motioning for her to stay back.

"I offer no threat," Ji said quietly, and Cyc translated each word simultaneously. "But I cannot allow one of my men to be your hostage, and offer myself in his place." She stepped up next to Kamick.

Rutting crazy, the deputy could not turn his head, not with the blade there, but out of the corner of his eye he looked up at Ji. "You don't have to do this," he whispered. "I'm okay, it's under control."

Cyc translated this as well.

Slowly the knife-wielding woman moved her long blade from Kamick's neck up to Ji's then she paused, and slowly pulled it back, saying something softly in her own tongue.

"The enemy does not act this way," Cyc explained. "You are not them."

She stepped back, but kept her blade before her. She doesn't trust easily, Kamick realized. Smart. Able to see her whole body now he noted she had a lithe, highly athletic figure, tightly muscled. Not bad, he thought, you take all that armor away, she's probably quite the looker. He stilled a chuckle. He suspected it would take heavy plasma cutters to accomplish that though. She asked several rapid questions.

"She wants to know who we are, what we're doing here, and what our relation is with 'the enemy,' which is presumably the Empire," Cyc offered.

"I am Jia Ji," Ji repeated. "An officer of the Discblade Alliance, who are the opponents of the Empire, as they have invaded our lands just as they have yours I believe. These are my companions, Kamick Travan, Irina, Drado, and Cyc," she pointed to each in turn. "They come from different lands and backgrounds, but all have committed to this cause. We have come to this world to thwart a plan of the Empire. I can explain in detail, but I ask that you sit and join us at dinner, it is late, and there will be much to discuss."

After Cyc finished translating the woman put away her knife and the long punch dagger. She then bowed slightly, in a style similar to the one the deputy had seen Etch use before Xerweg. "I am Chloe Vell, of the Shade Knights of the Franmare Dominion. I will share your fire."

Ji, walking stiffly due to her injury, went back to her side of the fire, and gestured for Chloe to sit. The shade knight did so, and as she moved Kamick observed something strange. Her armor did not clatter or rub as it shifted with her repositioning, but somehow flowed along her body, as if it was bonded to her skin. It tickled a memory in his mind, and a dark sense of foreboding.

"That's it!" Cyc proclaimed, filling in the gap momentarily.

"What is it?" Ji glared at the droid, clearly annoyed at being interrupted, for Chloe's expression had become defensive, eyes narrow.

"Her movements! Her armor!" the droid was shaking with excitement. "That's the control mechanism the Empire needs, it's exactly it!"

Kamick looked at Chloe, who had risen to her feet again, and this second movement made it clear. She was indeed bonded to the mail and plate, it was not worn, it was somehow part of her. But it's pounded metal, he thought. How can that be? He could see the marks of hammering and scoring on the outer edges of some of those plates. Someone had made that and put it on her, but it had joined with her body later. It was mesmerizing to watch, but also frightfully strange.

Chloe hissed a question, her hands going for her knives.

"It is all right," Ji remonstrated, and Cyc managed to cover his enthusiasm long enough to continue translating. "It is just that meeting you has revealed to us a great secret regarding the Empire's plans."

"You know why the enemy is here?" Chloe demanded.

"My companion believes they are after the secrets of you armor," Ji explained. Cyc kept up simultaneous translation for both parties, so that something almost resembling a conversation took place.

Slowly Chloe sat as Ji gently tugged her arm. Looking at her face Kamick was able to catch a few of the ticks marking her as near-human. She did not have eyelashes, instead there was a line of reddish-black pigment above both eyes. The eyes themselves had very thin irises, and the pupils were not circular, but a slight vertical ellipse. He could catch a few strands of loose hair penetrating from under the concealing hood, blond with spotty red flecks throughout. The armor was the greatest difference of course. That explains how they survive here, at least, he realized. It must keep the dirt off the skin.

"Why should they want our armor?" Chloe asked incredulously. Her mannerisms were mostly human, in the face at least. Kamick noticed her body was more or less frozen in place as she spoke, and even the armor did not move, though he suspected that must be at least partly training. "The armor of the enemy blocks our weapons far better than our own, and it is lighter, slimmer."

"It's not the steel they want," Cyc answered for himself. "They want the way you make it move." He made a series of gestures to indicate what he meant.

Chloe twisted he right arm about, causing a series of twisting shifts and slides of her mail, the armor automatically compensating to remain perfectly in place for maximum protection. "The plumfrou?" The term had no proper translation. "But we are born this way!" She protested. "The armor is fashioned to the Ferrine if one earns the rank of knight! How could you take that away?"

"The Empire can strip all kinds of things from you," Kamick found himself speaking. "Advanced technology can do all kinds of horrible things."

Chloe looked at him, meeting his eyes. He found he could feel her in the Force in that moment, and Irina had been right, she did have ability, he'd never been able to detect the difference before, but now it was obvious. Her life burned tight and furious. She'd been trained with all the focus and force of Drado, but her motive had not come within as it had for the Kyuzo, she had been compelled to this lonely existence as a Shade Knight.

"Cyc, any theories?" Ji's focus remained practical.

"The term 'Ferrine' references iron," the droid analyzed. "I believe these people developed a mutation that encased iron within a protein matrix in their dermis. That developed into a sort of metal skin-within-skin that protects them from the corrosive microbes. Looking at her face I can actually see the nascent metal fibers lying just beneath the outer surface. Subsequently they expanded on this by attaching metal plates to this layer. It's almost like having a tattoo on the outside, only made of steel."

Chloe tried to follow this exchange, in a language foreign to her and containing highly technical terms, and clearly failed completely. Kamick, watching her, thought of a good idea. He picked up his riot shield and slid it toward her. "Try to break that," he told her, miming the motion.

After a second she caught the meaning, and drew her katar. Her thrust struck down with immense power, concentrated pressure on a single point.

It made only a slight nick. Kamick watched as she tried again, equally successful. The Shade Knight turned the device over in her hands, noting the score marks from absorbed blasterfire, and marveling at the long scratches and jagged hole inflicted by the dromaes. "What did this?"

"A great monster," the deputy told her, not considering it at all an exaggeration. "But, that's not the point. As strong at that shield is, imagine something ten times as strong, and all over the body like your plumfrou," his tongue twisted around the alien word.

Chloe's eyes widened in horror. She looked at the shield again. "This, this is no steel," she suggested.

"A valid point," Ji took up the flow of the conversation once more. "But the Empire is searching for a way around that problem. They are looking for a way to fashion the armor they desire to your ferrine, a metal called carbonite. It would not be an easy thing to learn, but they will try as many times as it takes, and your people are the ones paying the price. They have taken away a great many, have they not?"

The recognition on Chloe's face was obvious. "Yes," she whispered. "So many have been taken by the enemy." She paused, and looked at everyone. "But we will stop them," she vowed. "We will fight them to the end!"

Ji smiled fiercely. "Yes, I believe you will, and we have sworn much the same." The noblewoman was not patronizing, she was sincere in a way Kamick was not sure he could be. Chloe was a warrior, sure, he could see that, but aside from getting the drop on them, what could she accomplish? She has knives and blades as weapons, and armor made of steel forged by hand. Even if there are thousands, millions of them, what difference does it make?

"On behalf of the Discblade Alliance," Ji continued. "I offer to aid your people, and help drive the Empire from this world. What say you?"

"Renigh needs your help, I think," Chloe answered. "The enemy's weapons are too much for us, and I think you have honor outsiders, but I cannot make such a decision, I am simply a Shade Knight."

"Can you take us to someone who can?" Kamick asked, having expected her to say something like that. It was what he would have said.

Chloe blinked, and the armored hood shivered. "The Duke," she whispered. "The Duke will know what to do." She looked to Ji. "I can take you to him, in the camp of the Sacred Army."

"That is very welcome," Ji smiled, softer this time. "We can set out in the morning. This is a suitable campsite, and there is little to be gained by traveling in the dark."

"You wish me to sleep here?" the Shade Knight questioned. "Among you?"

"I you do not feel safe, feel free to go elsewhere," Ji took pains to avoid offense. "We can rendezvous in the morning."

"No, it is not that," Chloe replied nervously. "Among Nighten," Kamick recognized this must be the name of her species. "And the knights especially, sleeping places are divided by role. Duel Knights with Duel Knights, Lance Knights with Lance Knights, and so forth. But, among outsiders..."

Strange taboos, the deputy recalled Cyc mentioning such traits were common among Desga species. This sort of odd cultural quirk certainly qualified.

"It is your planet, so we shall honor your rules," Ji said immediately. "Though our divisions are somewhat more fluid..." she paused, considering. "Perhaps we will divide in two groups, one on each side of the fire," she suggested. "Drado and I are soldiers, so we will take this side."

Chloe looked over with trepidation at him and Irina. Kamick gave her a smile and tried to stay relaxed, though she had been pointing a very sharp blade at him not long ago. "What do I have in common with these?" the shade knight questioned.

"Irina says you can use the Force," Ji answered calmly. "I do not know what it is called among your people but..." she looked at the Maskri, who responded by tossing her discblade and having it spin in front of her quickly. Kamick noted that this display did not seem to perturb Chloe at all, if anything she looked at Irina with extra respect, nothing more. "Among our worlds these are called Zeison Sha. Irina and Kamick both practice the tradition, and if you have the same abilities you would fit amongst them."

"I accept this," Chloe swallowed hard. It was obviously an imperfect solution, but it seemed the proprieties had been met, if barely. "What of the machine?"

"Cyc does not require sleep, and will keep watch," Ji explained. "I suspect he is far too excited to rest anyway."

"Yes," the shade knight acknowledged, and looked to Ji. "Thank you." she appended nervously.

The spoke a bit further, about simple, practical things, the direction to travel, use of the woods, and so forth, but Ji did not probe deeper, obviously delaying questions until meeting additional Nighten, a strategy Kamick accepted. After all, who knew how accurate Chloe's views might be?

So it was shortly thereafter that he ended up rolling out his sleeping bag, after Kratovas the mild climate of Renigh had not caused any of them to bother with tents, and discovered Chloe had bedded down next to him. The nighten woman slept in her armor, obviously, but she had carried a small blanket along and paused to make a simple bed of leaves for cushioning. Her armor adapted to the sleeping posture, adjusting the plates to different positions so they did not weigh upon her body. She took her belt of weapons off, but kept all of them within reach, just as he did for his pistol.

"Good night," he told her, before realizing the remark was pointless without Cyc to translate.

Chloe seemed to catch his meaning anyway. "Bensoer," she replied before rolling to look off into the trees.

Can these people really help us stop the Empire? Kamick wondered. Or has a random adaptive trait become the doom of the galaxy?

He did not rest easy.

**Chapter Notes**

1. It is difficult to explain exactly how Nighten armor works. It's just kind of a fantastical Star Wars thing. Effectively they have a sort of second skin, and can apply plating to it.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 – Blue Cold**

**Lowland Forests, Renigh**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

Chloe, Kamick discovered in the morning, had a positively Drado-esque exercise regimen. She was up just before dawn, and going through a brutal series of moves with her knives. Kamick, awakened by the activity, was able to watch some of it. The intense movement of this routine highlighted the armor's bond to the nighten body. It moved with her, aiding her motion completely, even re-balancing as she stepped. It made maneuvers possible that no one else could have performed in such cumbersome mail.

The nighten did not practice alone, of course, Drado had his own morning exercise of strange Kyuzo contortions and sprints about the clearing. This isn't going to go easy, the deputy recognized, and inevitably it became a process of one-upmanship, just as Drado and Etch had done before, this time ending with the pair running back and forth throwing knives at each others heads.

"Stop this!" Ji pulled herself up from her bed, still struggling with the weariness of recovery. "Save your energy for the Empire!"

Though the Nighten could not understand the rebuke, Ji's meaning was clear without words. Both fighters quickly put their weapons away, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Crunching down ration bars and breaking camp, Kamick was a bit surprised when Cyc stood in the center of the group. "Some good news for all," the droid announced. "I had a productive night while you all indulged in sleep. I've rigged a translation protocol for the Nighten language, and I'll upload it to everyone's comlinks. That will spare my vocoder extra wear and tear." Everyone duly passed over their comlnks and Cyc made a few quick modifications. "Recognize that while this mode is engaged you won't be able to transmit normally, and you'll have to remember to switch back," he advised. Then Cyc turned to Chloe. "I've altered a spare unit to conduct the reverse process for Miss Vell's use, just in case."

What followed was a several minute process to explain to the nighten warrior how to use the device. Chloe had an adaptable mind, but it still was complicated and ultimately rather comical. "This is very strange," she said after tying the comlink to the edge of her hood. She jumped in fright when the device rendered over her words in Basic after she spoke.

This is going to take some getting used to, Kamick thought, chuckling a little.

"You were to take us to your Sacred Army," Ji reminded the group of the discussion from the night before. "If you would lead the way, I believe we are ready to go."

Kamick walked over to the noblewoman, anticipating carrying her for the first stretch, since it was his turn.

"I will walk today," Ji insisted, refusing the unsaid offer. "My strength has returned that much, and I cannot be coddled. I must get ready to fight again soon."

"If you're sure," the deputy knew better than to try and force Ji to accept his help. She'd blame herself more than him.

"So long as we do not push the pace, I will be fine," Ji answered, calm and seemingly much better. "The wounds have healed, it is only weakness now."

"Okay, but if you need any help, make sure to ask," she wouldn't of course, but he felt better for offering.

They set off through the woods.

Chloe led the way, and Kamick walked up beside the nighten woman, curious about her. It was not easy to see into her, with the armor and mask covering almost everything, but he thought she was younger than him, just a little. Her eyes were stern, and she had clearly seen a lot in her few years. "What's it mean, being a Shade Knight?" he asked, unable to think of a better start to the conversation.

"We are those who strike from the shadows, unseen. Our role is to scout the enemy and disrupt his operations," Her response was rote, the repetition of something she had been taught. "It is not a glorious service, but an essential one, and we have as much honor as any other order of knights." There was a defensive edge to this statement bleeding through even the translation. Kamick thought he understood, it was hard to be a scout, spy, and maybe even assassin. Essential in war, he would bet Ji would agree, but not much liked otherwise.

"How did you make the decision to become one?" The deputy asked. Was it decided in childhood? He guessed. It seemed likely in a society like this one.

"Those children who are given to the orders are tested in their tenth year, and each order chooses those it believes best suited," Chloe explained. Kamick searched for it, but she displayed no bitterness at this, only simple acceptance. "From there we work to earn our steel," she gestured to the armor she wore with considerable pride. "That has been my life," Chloe added proudly. "To serve in the armies of Franmare. It has been a great service," she paused, then whispered. "Until the enemy, this 'Empire' you name them, came."

She turned her face away for a moment, then suddenly looked back. "What of you, sir?" she asked suddenly. "Your role is strange to me. Your commander and her guard," she referred to Ji and Drado, flicking a hand in their direction. "These I understand, and the machine is like a builder, or a scribe. Your commander grouped you with the priestess," Kamick realized this must mean Irina, the Zeison Sha had explained that many cultures saw the Force as magical. Still, it seemed odd, considering Xulin could use the Force herself. "But you are different from her."

"All Zeison Sha are different," Kamick replied. Am I Zeison Sha? He wondered absently. Not yet, I think. "But you're right, Irina and I have different backgrounds. I only recently learned about the Force."

Chloe appeared to accept this. "You are trained, like a soldier, but...not," she added weakly. "What were you?"

"A sheriff," he told her, though the confusion on her face made it clear this word had not translated properly. "A policeman," he tried. "Someone who enforces the law."

"A watchman," the nighten woman managed to deduce at last. "You seem more formidable than such, however," Kamick brightened at this compliment. It was nice to be told you were good at something, even by an alien who fought with steel blades. "Are there no knights among your people? Must watchmen do more?"

"Something like that," he agreed, it wasn't easy to explain. "I'm from a small colony, there were few lawmen, and fewer soldiers, we had to do many things ourselves. I looked after a wide territory."

"Like the watch knights in mountains," Chloe supplied an explanation that made sense to her, though Kamick was not sure she had caught his meaning. "What was your world like?" She asked suddenly. "Are the worlds of outsiders similar to Renigh?"

"Some are," he said charitably, surprised by Chloe's inquisitiveness. She didn't really seem the type. "Mine wasn't," he added sadly. "Your world is lush, with tall trees and plants everywhere. My home was covered in ashes, black, raw, and sharp as your blades."

"That's sounds like the home of the Empire," the Shade Knight replied in sadness and consternation. "Some murderous place of demons from beyond the skies."

"The Empire comes from many places," Kamick shared her sadness. "Many, many worlds," he didn't what to trouble her with the true hideousness of the numbers. Even from the Discblade Alliance perspective it was almost hopeless to think about. "Some are surprisingly kind, some are brutal." The deputy recalled that the Emperor was from a planet called Naboo, which was supposed to be some kind of idyllic rustic world. "But evil can rise from anywhere."

"Yes, that is right," Chloe acknowledged, but she was clearly unhappy about it.

As the day wore on it started to rain. Kamick found this surprising, for he had never experienced rain beneath a canopy before. Storms on Lavestral were quick things of sharp lightning and heavy walls of water soon blown by, and the rare rain on Kratovas had been similar. This slow trickling of water, constant and soaking, was unexpected. The soil turned red beneath it, as the water contacted the extensive iron deposits. He found it rather miserable.

Chloe clearly did too, her face tightened up, and her body contracted inward. "Doesn't your armor protect you?" Kamick wondered.

"From wetness, yes, not from cold," the Shade Knight replied miserably.

"Oh," the deputy gave a commiserating smile. "I hate the cold too." His memories of ice of Kratovas were all-too vivid.

"It seems there are some things that outsiders can share easily then," Chloe commented, and he felt welcomed by the remark.

They spoke little as the rain continued. Eventually they reached the edge of the forest, with it breaking out in a smooth line to open pasture and farmland. The rain kept most of the people indoors, so they saw few souls. Those who were about gave curious looks, but Chloe would shout that they were on army business in her own tongue and the local people more or less ignored them after that.

"These settlements imply a strongly feudal culture," Cyc explained to the group. "With the vast majority of the population engaged in tilling local territories. The agricultural techniques are not especially advanced, and I suspect cycles of crop failure and famine are common in bad years. There are probably regular wars as well."

"Life on worlds of this nature is very hard," Ji commented quietly. "This world belongs to the Nighten, it is not our place to judge them."

Chloe led them across pastures close to the forest, for there were no roads, only wagon ruts. They passed over a great many stone walls, for the soil was rocky and tough. What would it be like to grow up on a primitive planet? Kamick wondered. Lavestral had been low on the conveniences of galactic life compared to many worlds, but when measured against this existence, he'd lived like a god.

"Where is your camp located?" Ji asked the Shade Knight in the mid-afternoon rain.

"By the Nantel River, in the Tourlon Hills," she explained. "The enemy has laid waste to the provinces there, but we shall hold them back from the heart provinces."

"I see," Ji noted. "I wish we had a map of this landscape, but I suppose it can wait."

Walking a bit further the rain eventually cleared, to Kamick's delight. It remained overcast and gray, but he started to dry out.

They were walking up a gentle hill, in a wide hay pasture with the forest on the left, when Irina suddenly stopped. "There is something foul on the wind," the Zeison Sha said.

Kamick pulled up as well, and focused in to the Force. What was she sensing?

He discovered it a moment later, a dark, angry thing, reeking and awful, coming from the forest beyond. Not imperial troops, they did not feel of the dark side, being nothing more or less than men, this was something different. He couldn't understand it.

"Are we going to be attacked?" Ji questioned immediately.

"Yes, they are coming for us, and soon," Irina answered. Kamick could only nod, there was a predator fury to this sensation, it reminded him of the dromaes, only malevolent.

"This hilltop is not ideal, but it will have to do for a defensive position," Ji ordered. "There is no time to find something better." She unlimbered the blaster rifle she'd scavenged on Kratovas. "Take up a low line." She crouched down flat on her belly, holding the gun before her. Kamick and the others fell into place.

"Better get down," Kamick told Chloe. "You can't help until they get too close."

The Shade Knight nodded grimly, and she sank to the grass. There was a tiny quiver in the Force, and the shadows seemed to practically wrap about her, causing her to all but vanish from his vision. It was a modest optical trick, but clearly useful.

They waited, wondering just what would emerge from the trees.

At first there was only one. Kamick saw it first, dashing out into the pasture, perching on the stone wall in an almost canine posture, sniffing.

It was humanoid, wearing a tight jumpsuit and nothing more. The creature was vaguely androgynous, lacking in an identifiable gender. Its eyes were solid white, otherwise blank, and it had no hair. It was powerfully muscled, and sleek, with sharp, triangular ears.

"That is no species anywhere in my databank," Cyc said quizzically. "But I'm getting all kinds of partial matches.

This strange humanoid looked up and stared at the group. It grinned. Kamick saw then that the Imperial symbol had been branded into its forehead.

This unearthly monster charged even as dozens more emerged from the forest.

Rut they're fast! Kamick though, trying to grab a shot at one.

To his left Drado fired, tracking one with a burst from his repeater.

The humanoid flipped and spun, evading much of the burst, but still taking a solid hit to the chest.

It flopped to the ground for a moment, but was up again in an instant, seemingly without permanent damage.

"These are the super-soldiers!" Ji shouted in realization as she fired desperately, and Kamick knew she was right.

They were impossibly fast, and incredibly tough, shrugging off blaster hits better than if equipped with stormtrooper armor. Thankfully they were unarmed.

The distance closed brutally fast, and Kamick had yet to see any go down for good. He'd hit more than once, but his pistol's stopping power wasn't doing the job.

"Die Resistance!" one of the humanoids shouted. It had a deep and cruel voice, and the deputy could practically smell the darkness that radiated from them in the Force. What twisted things had been done to create these horrors?

Irina stood up, and her discblade flew.

The target tried to evade at the last moment, but there was no dodging that Force-guided weapon.

The super-soldier flung out an arm to block, and lost it completely.

It gave no sign that this hurt, and continued charging.

Irina's discblade took another in the mid-section, and it finally fell, but the creature grabbed the metal weapon as it did, both hands grabbing and pulling, refusing to let go even as the Zeison Sha tried to pull it back.

"Fall back!" Ji shouted, recognizing they were terribly over-matched.

It was far too late, Kamick realized, it had been too late when they broke from the trees.

He had only time to stand; then the enemy was among them.

One slammed into his shield, scratching at him with long nails. He threw it back, drawing on the Force and firing repeatedly. Its skin smoked and the monster fell, but another was there then, and slammed a fist against his shield.

The deputy was thrown to the ground, gasping for air.

He saw Chloe rise up from her hidden crouch, throwing a knife at the humanoid.

Casually it caught the weapon in midair, ignoring the slight traces of blood leaking down.

It blocked the nighten's katar thrust with one hand, and clawed with incredible strength using the other.

Chloe's armor saved her from dismemberment, but the plates at her waist buckled and tore beneath the incredible power of the strike, and she was thrown down.

"You are too weak!" the monster howled in glee. "Hopeless!"

Trying to rise, Kamick couldn't disagree. How could they fight such things? With great numbers or heavy weapons, perhaps, but not like this. Even with the Force, I can't fight five to one against these things.

"No!" Irina's shout rose above the din of battle. "This is not the end!"

The wind rose about the hilltop, a great blast of air obscuring everything, and hurling Kamick about so he completely lost all orientation.

Then it was done.

The deputy was lying in the grass at the base of the hill. Ji was next to him, with Drado, Cyc, and Chloe scattered nearby, sprawled by the force of the blow.

He turned his head to see Irina on the hilltop. The Maskri's hair rose above her, a great blue crown in defiance of gravity. The hideous myrmidons surrounded her, laughing.

"Pointless!" One shouted.

"You are things not meant to be," Irina's voice rose like thunder, resonating with frozen potency. "I will not permit your existence, or this end!"

Several charged her, and Kamick despaired. Irina was strong in the Force, but what could she do against so many creatures of such strength and power? There's no chance.

The Zeison Sha extended one hand before her, pointing her index finger its whole length, though targeting nothing.

"You are stopped."

There was a strange sort of flash, not of light, but an eerie loss of illumination, as if something had suddenly vanished away.

Everything around Irina came to a sudden, utter, stop.

Reality paused about her, and it extended, an expanding field wrapping back and away, passing over the super-soldier creations and rendering their motion completely ended. They ceased to move, and went suddenly blue, all other colors draining away, before they hardened, frozen in time.

"Absolute zero," the deputy heard Cyc breath with a frightful kind of reverence.

Energy is motion, Irina had said, and he understood what she had done. Take all the energy away, and there is no motion, and without that, there's only death.

"Irina!" he shouted, jumping to his feet, for he could see what was happening to the Zeison Sha as well. She lay at the center of her trap, and her whole body was crystallizing, crumbling away from the outside.

"No!" he felt a pull on his back, and looked to see Ji grabbing his shirt. "You must not go! This is her sacrifice, nothing can be changed now!"

The noblewoman's plea pulled him back just long enough.

Do not despair, Kamick heard Irina's voice in his mind. This is simply what has come to pass. Loss is part of life. He could feel his teacher's sadness, but also her acceptance even as the eternal cold welcomed her into its frozen embrace. I am sorry I could not complete your instruction, but stand tall, the Force is there, you have the strength within to complete this task. Remember that. Remember who you are, and the Force will always be there.

Then there was only silence.

Looking at the hilltop, Kamick saw Irina's body crumble to nothing, flickering snowflakes to blow away in the wind. Tears stung his eyes and he dropped to his knees. "Damn, damn, damn!" he howled. Why did it have to be her? Why anyone? "Damn the Empire forever!"

"It looks like four of those creatures escaped," Ji voice broke through the storm of emotions enveloping the deputy. "They are retreating."

Drado said something, and Kamick hoped it was an offer to pursue. "Those things must be destroyed," he hissed. "They shouldn't exist."

"I agree," Ji offered, but she did not send them after the super-soldier horrors. "But we cannot go after them now. They are too fast for us to catch, and we must go on to meet with the Nighten army."

"Why?" Kamick wondered. Could that really be more important?

"Those monsters are dangerous," Ji said quietly, her voice firm, serious, and filled with dread. "But beatable. They do not have the armor. If that plan comes to fruition, those things will be unstoppable. We must move to stop it with utmost urgency, the Empire would not have deployed those things if it was not a critical moment. There is no more time to spare."

She was right, he knew. He couldn't contest any of it. A few left-over experiments were unimportant, they had to stop the mastermind behind it all. How can we do that? Kamick wondered. He still had no idea. He didn't think any nighten army would be able to help them get into space.

He looked back to where Irina had fallen. There was nothing to bury, not even a scrap of ribbon remained.

Chloe, oddly, ran up to the hilltop anyway, though no one else followed.

"Beatable," Cyc groused, and Kamick noted the droid had acquired a series of nasty claw marks on his leg plating. "Sure, maybe for a Zeison Sha, but it seems we're a little short on that account now." He voiced what everyone else was surely thinking.

Ji turned to rebuke the droid, but then said nothing, and simply turned to take up the march.

"Are you not also Zeison Sha?" Kamick turned at Chloe's translated voice, for the Shade Knight had overheard on her way back down. "All the bodies have become dust," she told them. "But I found this." She held it out in both hands.

Irina's discblade.

The weapon had not passed through the crucible of absolute zero unchanged. The metal had shifted, undergoing some kind of crystallization. Kamick could not define it better than that, but where it had once been ordinary durasteel, now it was something else, a material he could not properly understand. Taking it in both hands the deputy discovered the weapon was very cold still, touching it almost burned. It felt lighter, delicate, and he knew it was no longer useable. The crystal is perfect across the whole structure, he realized, feeling it in the Force. A single strike would shatter it, but it was breathtakingly beautiful otherwise, deep blue and shimmering with every touch of light upon it.

Loss is a part of life, Irina had told him as she faded, and looking upon the weapon she had left behind, Kamick knew it could be beautiful as well as terrible.

"Let's go," he nodded to Ji. "The Empire is waiting for us."

**Chapter Notes**

Absolute zero is a physical phenomenon; the absence of any thermodynamic motion whatsoever. The laws of thermodynamics mean that it is technically impossible to reach using conventional means, but obviously the Force can defy conventional. Matter displays extremely strange properties when exposed to such temperatures.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 – The Face of Duty**

**Sacred Army Main Camp, Renigh**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

Chloe led them into the camp, and Ji's eyes wandered widely, studying everything she could take in as quickly as possible. The camp was composed largely of round tents, in the red and gold colors common to the nighten. It was widely dispersed, and hidden among the trees and gully's of this territory, no doubt in the hope of avoiding scrutiny from above. The measures were not especially useful, but Ji suspected the Empire had good reason to avoid turbolaser bombardment of this force.

Armored beings bustled everywhere throughout the camp, those bearing the stout armor of the knights allow with more common Nighten, with the simpler gray-coating on much of their skin. There was a tremendous amount of work going on. Besides the people the camp teemed with what Ji could only consider horses. There were surely equine in nature, though their red fur was matted into tiny scales, clearly another form of adaptation to Renigh's soil-dwelling parasites. Ji suspected this might have been engineered shortly after the original colonization, even as the humans were still struggling to survive on the planet. They were large, formidable animals, designed to carry armored men and women into combat. Though not nearly as large as banthas, these horses had been bred and trained for war, and the noblewoman considered them quite dangerous.

They drew eyes as they passed through the camp, and many hands went to weapons, despite the armed guard that had gathered to escort them as soon as Chloe announced their presence. These guards, were all knights, though of a different kind than the slender Shade Knight. Most were large men, their armor fully plated and with enclosed helmets of spikes and horns. They carried large spears and massive two-handed axes that were surely incredibly heavy, and extremely powerful. There were also two women, in somewhat lighter armor, bearing long thin dueling blades. Field Knights and Duel Knights, Chloe had labeled these two different groups. The leader of their guard, an older man who kept a sharp-eyed watch on the Shade Knight most of all, wore grandiose armored robes, flaring wide like his own personal tent, he carried a long bent staff and wore a peaked hat that extend more than half a meter above the top of his head. Reputedly this man was a 'wizard.' Kamick said he was not Force sensitive, and the noblewoman suspected this represented a class of people wielding secretive knowledge that gave them pretensions of the arcane.

Ji marked out interesting commonalities regarding the people, and their tents and work-spaces as well. Everything was extremely ornate, baroque. The red and gold coloring was everywhere, and style seemed almost as important as function. She suspected it had something to do with the bonding they experienced with their armor. These people could not change clothes on anything resembling a regular basis, so their one outfit was designed for the maximum impression, and it had become the custom to press this florid, gothic style onto everything in their lives.

Despite the ornate nature of their armor and weapons, this Sacred Army was not a ceremonial force. Ji observed highly functional drills in progress, and maintenance of weapons and armor was continual. Men and women exercised, took meals, and played some kind of dice game with the mettle of long-established soldiers. These were veterans, and knew their craft.

Experienced though Ji believed the soldiers to be, morale was clearly suffering. Screams came from medical tents, and long rows of graves could be seen at the edges of the camps. The knights appeared dispirited, and there was little energy present. This did not surprise her. Taking on the Empire with swords, spears, and arrows was sure to grind down even the best army rapidly. How long have they been fighting? Ji wondered. And how many are the enemy? The camp was vast, and though Ji's mind could not encompass it all she figured tens of thousands of fighters, a great army for a feudal world.

The Duke's tent was larger, and hung with many streamers. High-ranking knights, recognizable by the extraordinary quality of their armor, gathered outside, coming and going with the business of the army.

An older man, garbed as one of the wizards, kept watch by the door. "What is this?" he demanded as they approached. "Have we captured prisoners?" he looked at them carefully. "Why are they still bearing their weapons."

"They claim to be outsiders who oppose our enemy," the young leader of their escort answered nervously. "This shade knight says she found them in the woods and vouches for them, claiming to have see them fight against enemy agents and lose one of their own in the process."

Irina, I wish you were still with us, Ji felt their chances of success had plummeted with the loss of the Zeison Sha, even though her sacrifice had saved them. Kamick may be a great Zeison Sha someday, but he's not ready, that much was obvious to her. How much can the four of add to this struggle without the Force as our ally? The time for intelligence gathering had come and gone, Ji knew, but to lead the charge against the Empire on this world, they were not enough. Certainly I cannot work some military miracle to save these people. She doubted anyone could.

"Who are you Shade Knight?" the wizard demanded.

"Chloe Vell," the young woman answered, bristling at the accusation.

The do not know we can understand then, Ji gave the ghost of a smile. Perhaps it was time to change that.

"We are here on behalf of the Discblade Alliance to see your commanding general," Ji stepped forward, ignoring the axe-heads that swiveled in her direction. There was a slight twinge of pain from her side, but it was almost gone. She was close to fully recovered. "This is a critical point in this struggle, and I do not intend to be kept waiting." She drew her self up and dared them to stop her from walking forward.

The middle-aged wizard sputtered. "Wait, wait," he stepped before her. "I must inform the duke of this, you cannot simply burst into his presence."

"Then announce us, please," Ji did not ask, she demanded. She had no wish to run over this man, but it was necessary now. They needed to negotiate with this duke directly, discussions with underlings, once begun, would never end.

The wizard disappeared inside the tent for a moment. It had stout walls, and Ji could hear nothing said from within. After perhaps half a minute the wizard emerged, and several other knights also exited. "The Duke has agreed to see you and Knight Vell, without guards other than myself, but you must discard all weapons and leave them with the bailiff," he gestured at another stone-faced nighten by the door. "To be returned at the Duke's will."

"As you wish," Ji felt confident. This Duke was clearly a decisive man, and not a fearful one, to dismiss his guards. Good, we may have a chance to reach a quick understanding. She took off her blaster rifle and vibro-pike, handing them over to the baliff. Cyc tossed his grenade launcher to the man, enjoying the man's moment of confusion when he caught the long tube. Kamick added his blaster pistol and baton, but kept his shield. Ji waited for an objection, but the nighten said nothing. Drado handed over his repeater and a small pile of knives, but kept his hat, mimicking the deputy's move. So, we are not completely unarmed, the noblewoman observed slyly. A good move Kamick, she thought.

The wizard ushered them inside.

The Duke's tent was wide and spacious, clearly set up for command. A large double table occupied much of the space, covered by a huge map. The bore a number of small metal figurines in various positions. Marking troop locations, Ji suspected. It was a reasonable approach in the absence of holos and digital displays. The Duke sat on a high wooden chair behind the table. He was an older man, and his face was lined and worn with the mark of many years on campaign. His armor was grand, and he still had muscle beneath it. Meeting his eyes Ji could tell immediately that this was a man suited to command, a general with true skill and leadership ability.

"You are in the presence of Duke Maurice Abengaide, Grand Commandant of the Franmare Dominion, and High General of Sacred Army of all Nighten," The wizard announced.

In front of her, Ji saw Chloe got to one knee and bow her head. She did not ape the shade knight, instead dropping down on both knees and lowering her head to the level of her waist. She felt the pain then, her side pounding, but refused to yield to it. "An honor, your grace." She said as she bowed.

"Rise, knight and visitors," the Duke had a deep voice, and he spoke strongly, a man used to shouting on the battlefield. "The dominion welcomes our visitors from beyond, if they come in peace, though you must not fault our hospitality, for these are dark times."

"Of course not," Ji rose to her feet. "And you have our sympathies."

"Please, sit, there is no need to stand on ceremony, I suspect this may stretch out for some time," he gestured to wooden stool arrayed around the table.

Ji took a seat, and wondered how to begin. What is the right place to start? How do we earn this man's trust?

The Duke did not ask anything of her at first, instead turning to Chloe. "Your report, Shade Knight."

Ji listened as Chloe related being dispatched after their crashed ship, finding them in the woods, and the fight that had followed. She kept her eyes on the Duke as he listened. The older man appeared to accept most of the story, though he asked many questions about the battle with the super-soldiers, and was clearly not satisfied with the answers he received.

Introductions followed this, and the Duke demanded to know how they could speak the language, which necessitated a short explanation from Cyc. Only when this was done did the Duke ask a direct question of the group. "So you are the enemies of the Empire, from far away, yet you are no army. Why did you come to Renigh?"

"To scout," Ji answered honestly, it was a serviceable question and a decent beginning. "We knew the Empire had a terrible plot centered on your world, but we did not know their numbers or operations here."

"Then why did you not return once you had learned this?" the Duke demanded.

Ji had considered whether or not to hide this, but looking into the weathered eyes of the old general, decided against lying. I do not think I can weave a web of deception around this man. "Our ship was damaged above the sky in battle. We are stranded here unless we can find a way to repair it, or steal a vessel from the Empire."

"I do not think my army can help you much in that," the duke rumbled. "Even my best wizards and priests can make little of the strange devices used by our enemies. You may try your luck with their ships, but they spend little time on the ground, just enough to take more of my people away, and their own soldiers guard them tightly. There will be no getting to such things until we have beaten their army."

"I expected as much," Ji admitted carefully, choosing her words with great diligence. "As that is so, perhaps we can render some assistance to your troops in their struggle."

"I welcome any aid," the duke admitted, but added. "Though I do not think four, however valiant, can make much difference."

"Perhaps it is not our valor you need," Ji responded quickly. "But our knowledge. We are familiar with this enemy, surely better than your own people. It is also possible that we may be able to provide other, technological aid that shall carry far further than our numbers."

"I will consider it," the duke spoke slowly. "There are many things to consider. Please wait outside, I will have food brought, and I shall call for you when I make my decision."

"Of course," Ji knew there was danger here. The duke might attempt to turn them over to the Empire in return for concessions. She did not think he would, the Nighten seemed to value personal honor highly, and such a cowardly act did not fit them or this man. He wants to fight the Empire, she could see it clearly in his emotions, in the way his gaze constantly went to the map before him. He was desperate to fight, but he does not think he can win.

They were escorted out and seated in a small side tent. Chloe stayed with them, apparently the guards had decided that was the best approach.

Kamick spoke first. "What I don't understand," He muttered. "Is why the Empire's bothering to fight this army at all." Ji followed his questions carefully, for the deputy had proven to have a store of common wisdom in the past. "Chloe says they've fought three battles with the Imperial ground troops, all loses," He grimaced, but Ji took this in stride. It was only to be expected. "Why is the Empire even bothering? Why don't they just raid at will and use the frigate's guns to blast through any resistance?"

"Shuttles," Cyc answered unexpectedly, drawing the deputy's gaze. "They can't raid at will because they don't have enough shuttles. They've got two at the most, and even packing the people in like fish you'd get maybe fifty aboard a shuttle. Obviously, that's not enough for what the Empire wants, and if you drop down on random villages with a few troops at a time, then they resist, you've got lots of deaths, and it's very inefficient. They must have set up a ground operation and this army formed to oppose that."

It was not a very military assessment, Ji thought, but she conceded the droid was likely correct. "There is likely political pressure as well," Ji told Kamick. "No doubt the leaders of this dominion have been ordered to supply some set number of citizens each day for the Empire. So long as this army stands they are refusing, if it falls, they'll have no choice but to agree."

"But what about bombardment?" the deputy protested. "These people couldn't stand against turbolasers raining down."

To Ji's surprise Chloe provided the answer to this somewhat thorny question. "The Prophet Joanne has proclaimed that fire will scourge the Sacred Army from the sky and foretell the end of the world. The priests are to distribute poison among the people if that day should come."

A bluff, Ji suspected, but a smart one, likely born from the vision of some local force user. "Ultimately, destroying this army by turbolaser fire will not be something the Empire can prove they did themselves, it's liable to provoke mass uprisings, total chaos, and collapse of government, which won't exactly increase the flow of slaves. Besides, I'm sure the Empire wishes to conquer this world, and defeating this army is the key point of pacification." Ji elaborated.

Drado spoke a quiet sentence, and Ji nodded sadly. "Yes, I have to agree. The Empire probably will bombard if their ground forces lose, but there is nothing to be done about it." She had to deal with the present problems, the frigate above would have to wait. For now, helping to defeat the imperial troops on the ground and thereby get at a shuttle was the best plan she could produce, weak though it was. Perhaps we can lead a commando assault during the confusion of battle, she dreamed.

The Nighten wizard interrupted these dark reflections. "The Duke will see you now."

Everyone rose. "No, just you," he pointed at Ji.

"Very well," Ji did not quite understand why this should be so, but she was in no position to insist otherwise.

The duke was alone inside his tent when Ji was brought to meet him. The old warrior stood hunched over his map, idly moving a few figures. He looked up as she entered.

"Lady Jia Ji, please, come here," he motioned her over to look at the map.

"Of course," Ji advanced slowly, slightly confused. "What is it you need from me?"

"I have decided to accept your help," the duke told her, not looking at her. "I am going to need it, that any perhaps a boost from the almighty."

"I am happy to help," Ji did not like the nearly hopeless tone in the Duke's voice. How over-matched are they really? "But why did you ask for me alone?" It was a somewhat crude question, but she had no choice save to ask it.

"Because you are the commander," the Duke straightened. "And it is your advice that is the most important."

"I do not understand," Ji spoke with quiet care.

"You were correct earlier," the Duke told her, sweeping his hands over the battlefield. "I do not know this enemy, none of my people do." he took a deep breath, letting it out wearily. "For over thirty years I have lived in the saddle, traveling from one battlefield to the next. I have fought in many wars, and done well, very well, some say I am even a legend. The man who won the dominion, the largest kingdom to ever stride across the lands of Renigh." He turned and stared at her. "These young knights, they think I can do anything, but I am not the almighty. Against any army of nighten I would lead them out with confidence, certain we would fight and die well even if all went wrong, but against this enemy, I can do nothing. Three battles fought, all terrible loses. Half my force is gone, and the enemy has suffered but minimally. I would give up command, but this army would not follow another, and there is no one else to trust in any case."

Ji felt a great swell of fear rising up in her chest. What was this man going to ask of her?

"Yet now you have come, a soldier from some other world, one who has seen battle against this foe, this Empire." The duke focused on her with those weary eyes. "If I am to win, you must give me a battle plan."

Ji looked from the Duke to the map, and then back again. "But..." she protested. "I am a squad leader, I command but a handful of men, I cannot devise battle for a great army. Surely there is something else I can..."

"Do this, or be gone," the Duke thundered, rising to his considerable full height, projecting the authority of his great position. "If I must accept the aid of outsiders, and give the greatest nighten army that has ever been into foreign hands, they I will have total commitment. I will do this only to win! If you will not give everything, than I do not need you, and we will go forth and die honorably on our own!"

Ji could see it now, the great cavalry charge, barreling across the open ground, backed by infantry, all slaughtered by blaster fire before they could even launch an arrow. It was hopeless, hopeless. Can I give them victory? She wondered. No, I do not think I can, but this man does, and if I offer these people even the slimmest of chances, then that is better than they would have otherwise. "I accept," she stepped into the fire, knowing there was no turning back.

"Good," the duke nodded, turning back to the map. "Now, we must begin."

"How many men do you have?" Ji asked, she needed information, something to work with in this struggle.

"After the losses we have suffered," the duke began depressingly. "I can field close to twenty-five thousand knights to battle. Seven thousand lancers," Ji understood this to mean the cavalry. "Seven thousand archers, one thousand priests and wizards, and ten thousand of the infantry orders."

"And the enemy?" Ji cared little for the absolute numbers, it was the ratio that mattered.

"My shade knights have counted close to one thousand, less whatever losses we have managed to inflict," the duke said to Ji's dismay. "Perhaps nine hundred. There are two differing kinds, men in brown and green who march together, and men in gray and black who do not, though they have similar armor and weapons. Do you understand this difference?"

"Yes," Ji considered. Twenty-five to one odds, not nearly what she would have hoped to see. Then again, the quality of the foe was potentially an opportunity. "Do you know the numbers?"

"In the brown, three hundred," the duke pointed out figures on the battlefield. "In the black seven. There were once a small group of horn-faced red ones, but these seem to have gone."

So the Zygerrians had retreated, Ji thought. Good. The slavers were a wild card best removed from the field. "The men in brown are Imperial Army, and are trained soldiers. Not the best, and inexperienced, but solid. The others...um..." she struggled as to how to explain this. "Does your dominion have a navy?"

"Yes," The duke answered in puzzlement.

"The craft the Empire uses to cross space are much like ships, and these men are similar to sailors," The noblewoman explained. "Like sailors they have been trained to use their weapons, but not to fight as soldiers. Unfortunately, with Imperial weapons, they remain extremely dangerous."

"But they might break before us," The duke suggested. "If we can get the upper hand."

"Perhaps," Ji admitted. "But the Empire is a cruel master, and these men fear their own commanders more than your knights." She looked out at the map, noticing the rough terrain in the Tourlon Hills to the west. "This area looks defensible, you might establish many strong points here and make the Empire break them down one by one. It would be very costly, but if they can be drawn in they could be gradually bled down." It was a typical resistance strategy, requiring many lives, but the Empire grew hesitant fast, and could be stopped with sufficient resolve.

"It is not a poor suggestion," the old warrior accepted the logic. "But I cannot use it."

"Why not?" Ji demanded.

The general looked hurt, and struggled to evade the question, before finally speaking. "The Sacred Army has but one battle left to give, after that, if there is not victory..." he trailed off, but Ji understood his meaning. Morale was low. These knights were professionals, and they trusted this man, but it would only go so far in the face of blasters and plastoid armor they could not pierce.

"That makes it a lot harder," Ji turned back to the map. The Empire has to be made to attack, they have too, she knew that much for certain. The only chance was to concentrate forces, draw the Empire in and then hit them so hard that they simply couldn't kill the nighten fast enough before being swarmed over. To do that required a place both wide and confined, somewhere that would make the imperials compress, but she could pour troops through.

Her eyes roamed the map, trying to get a sense of the terrain from the simple, two-dimensional images. Those hills, there must be a place, but where.

Then she found it.

It appeared as a wide V, a deep, vast river valley pouring out from a high plateau onto a much lower one. Ji could see it, the rough hills on each side, the narrow road winding up the riverside to the saddle of the past. It is not too steep, a charge could be made down, and also along the sides. "What is this place?" She asked the duke.

"That is Iron Gateway, long a defensible point," He answered.

"Is it forested?" That was very important.

"On the sides yes, there are young trees. The middle of the valley is cleared for pasture, and the saddle of the pass as well, by military order," He told here, speaking of familiar things with comfort. "It used to be all cleared, during the war there, but there has been peace for some time."

"I think that is the best place," Ji opined cautiously, almost hoping the Duke would override her.

"It has promise," He acknowledged. "Cavalry can charge from the crest, and other troops from the sides. That would make for a grand attack indeed, but if we cannot disrupt the enemy somehow, I see only a grand slaughter."

He is correct, Ji knew, but she also knew location hardly mattered for that. So long as they stayed together, a thousand imperials firing would break up any charge of all the nighten on the planet. There has to be some way to disrupt them, suppress them, and get them to scatter. Get them to break formation just long enough, get into a brawl with the infantry, and give the cavalry the chance to come down. But how? Roll trees from the hilltops? Plant shade knight commandos by the riverside? She considered many ideas and rejected them. "Your point is taken," she eventually told the Duke. "I see no easy solution to that problem, but I see no better point."

"Then we shall have to find one on the way," the Duke informed her. "I will give the order to move for Iron Gateway immediately. If we move now, at least the foe will meet us on our chosen ground. They do not lack for confidence."

"I will consult my companions," Ji offered weakly, trying to cover her failure of ingenuity. "They may have useful insights." It was possible, Drado understood primitive weaponry and fighting styles, Kamick had experience in the backcountry, and Cyc might have archived data of similar engagements.

"I will consult with you again on the road then," the duke dismissed her.

I must find a solution, Ji pleaded with herself as she left. She did not want to disappoint this valiant man. The nighten had chosen to fight when surrender would be so much easier, and they had done so with no urging from offworld emissaries or promises of Zeison Sha aid. There had to be a way to let them win, or if that was impossible, at least make the Empire bleed as they died.

**Chapter Notes**

1. The Nighten have a vaguely Christian religion with belief in a single divine power and are a faithful people, thus the religious references in this chapter.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 – Stand Forth**

**Sacred Army Column, Renigh**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

Ji found the others not long after. Kamick was talking animatedly with Chloe, while Drado and Cyc walked behind. They have quickly become friends, surprising, Ji thought, considering the inauspicious beginning. Does he find her attractive? She studied the deputy's movements for a moment. Perhaps he does, she thought. Well fair enough, the noblewoman admitted. She acknowledged that there had been little exposure to members of the opposite sex for some time. Irregardless of the boundaries of superior and subordinate, Ji had no interest in Kamick in that way, a mutual feeling. They were friends, but nothing beyond that, there was no chemistry otherwise.

For the best, Ji knew. It had made matters much less complicated. That Kamick should latch onto the alluring and mysterious shade knight was hardly surprising. Ji suspected the stealthy warrior was not used to prolonged contact with anyone outside of brutal operations, and had proven open to the attention. For now the squad leader filed away the observation. It might come in handy later.

"How did it go?" Kamick asked when she returned.

"I have agreed to assist the Duke in his struggle," Ji told them. "I hope you are with me. This is not going to be easy."

The deputy shrugged. "I don't know if there's anything else to do at this point," He lacked enthusiasm, but was at least supportive. The others nodded in chorus.

"We are traveling to a place called Iron Gateway," Ji explained. "It is a defensible position, and there this army will make its stand. The trick it to find a way to turn out a victory."

"How many Imperials?" Cyc asked.

"About a thousand," Ji repeated what the duke had told her. "Army troopers and dispatched navy personnel."

"Too many," The droid shook his head, sounding hopeless. "That's just too many guns, even if you get them to walk into a trap, they could gun this whole army down in a minute."

It was precisely the point the Duke had just made, the central problem indeed. "We must come up with a way to disrupt the imperial attack so this army can close," Ji exhorted. "They don't have heavy support equipment, it's nothing but soldiers, there ought to be a way." There's the four missing super-soldiers Ji recalled, but there was no way to plan for what those monsters would do. She doubted they'd be actively deployed alongside line troops though.

"You're talking about suppressing them long enough to make a charge, right?" Kamick clarified. He did not sound confident.

Drado grunted. "Yes, it is a long ways," Ji admitted.

"Three hundred meters," Cyc announced, pulling heads around. "That's the standard engagement range with an E-11 blaster rifle. Against unarmored targets you could probably start shooting earlier, but I doubt these Imperials will waste ammo. To suppress them before engaging means either a weapon that hits from further than that, or some kind of trap we can use against them."

Ji nodded, the droid had analyzed the particulars correctly.

"Do your people have anything with that kind of range?" Kamick asked the shade knight.

"How far is three hundred meters?" Chloe questioned, not having a reference.

"About from here to that blue tent," Cyc pointed at a distant medical pavilion.

"That is further than the strongest bow can shoot," Chloe told them. "Only siege weapons could reach so far, and that is wizard business."

"Siege weapons?" Ji confessed to not understanding what these people meant by such a thing.

"Catapults, ballistae, and similar primitive devices no doubt," Cyc illuminated the subject as Chloe nodded. "Devices designed to hurl metal bolts or stones."

"Such weapons are for attacking castles, or defending them," Chloe protested. "You cannot hit a man from beyond bowshot with one, only great masses of troops or large walls."

So that idea will not serve us, Ji determined. A pity, I understand the uses of artillery, and it would serve well in this case. A fixed defense without heavy guns is weak indeed, but I suppose to strike only a few hundred imperials it would be inefficient anyway.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Cyc objected. "There might be a way to get around the accuracy issue." The droid walked over to a nearby stone wall, grabbed several small stones, and eventually settled on one roughly twice the size of his fist. "About two kilograms ought to do it." He looked back at Ji. "Why don't you get the duke to round up these wizards, tell them I want them to build a machine that can throw this rock six hundred meters distant, and never mind the accuracy."

"What good will that do?" Kamick barked, and Ji agreed with the sentiment. At such a range, on a parabolic trajectory, that rock wouldn't even kill an Imperial if it struck him straight in the helmet.

"Humor me, call it an experiment," The droid was deliberately mysterious. "I'll see the rest of you in a few hours, I've got some things to collect."

Not having a better plan, Ji did as Cyc had instructed. The wizards were duly gathered and she watched as they worked. She dispatched Drado and Kamick to wander the camp, hoping to take the measure of the knights assembled, and provide additional detail on how their talents might be used.

The wizards gradually assembled a strange device that consisted of a sling mounted on the end of a long spar. This connected to a large wooden frame and was fastened into place by a rope under considerable tension. There was a great deal of consulting of old books during this process, as if they had not built such a device in a long time.

Ji asked the wizards about this and received a simple answer. "This is an old system, present devices are designed to throw much larger projectiles. These fire faster, but cannot throw anything heavy. Why do you want such a small stone to fly so far? It will not hit anything at that range."

"My companion has a way to counter that issue, and I do not intend to spoil the surprise," Ji did not know what Cyc had planned herself. There were any number of ways to guide such a projectile, but they all required technology these people did not have. She supposed this device could also be used to fire one of Cyc's grenades, but the supply of those devices was decidedly limited.

The droid returned later in the afternoon, as much of the camp had been cleared and was on the road. The wizards were clearly eager to join their fellows, for despite their arcane name these men were actually military scientists and apparently attached slings to their staves in battle and fought just as hard as everyone else. "So what's your plan?" Ji asked as Cyc approached.

"This," The analysis droid dropped a small iron globe into the sling. "Point this thing far away from everything and fire it off." He told the wizards.

Muttering quizzically, the robed men did so.

One lined the device up, measured for range, and struck off the holding pin.

The arm shot forward, throwing the ball the full six hundred meters.

It struck the ground with a tremendous boom.

Explosives! Ji recognized immediately. "What did you do?" she rounded on Cyc. "Where did you find ordinance?"

"I didn't find it, I made it," Cyc shrugged. "Ultimately, it's just highly concentrated gunpowder, a ridiculously primitive explosive that can be synthesized from readily available chemical components. It's not powerful, but two kilograms is sufficient to propel weak iron slivers a considerable distance at high velocity, creating a powerful shrapnel discharge. Useless against stormtroopers, but the equipment of the imperial army has a lot of gaps."

The functional radius of that explosion is probably between ten and twenty meters, Ji reasoned, but if this explosive really is common, and if enough of these catapults were constructed, it might be possible to manage a real barrage. "We need to be able to deliver sustained fire over an area at least two hundred meters long by one hundred meters wide for a minute or more." Ji told Cyc. "I'll speak to the Duke, and I suspect he'll give you the authority. Make it happen."

"But, but!" The droid protested. "I can't command something like that."

"You just gave the nighten artillery," Ji retorted mercilessly. "It's your responsibility to take care of it, and you will have to succeed, this is our best chance."

He can do it, Ji knew, the droid was surprisingly ingenious, and she had been impressed by the rapid construction of the wizards. The technology was primitive, but they understood military engineering. They could build what was necessary given time and a little motive. She only hoped it was possible to produce enough of this gunpowder to conduct a barrage. She went looking for the Duke, it was time to incorporate this new element into the battle plan.

Kamick woke up in the morning with an odd sense of foreboding. He rolled out of his sleeping bag early, before Drado or Chloe. Walking about the quite camp, with only guards, grooms, and cooks stirring, his mind churned with questions.

What am I doing here?

He didn't have an answer. Oh, it was all well and good to fight with the nighten, but he knew he had nothing to contribute to this army. Ji did, she could help plan the battle, she understood strategy and imperial tactics. So could Cyc, the droid was laboring away on some master plan to build a thousand catapults and blow the Empire apart. What can I do? I'm just a guy with a blaster pistol and a bit of the Force. He supposed that might be helpful in some small way, but one blaster wasn't going to make much of a difference, and the nighten had their own Force users, even if their talents were pretty limited. Chloe's abilities were weaker than his own half-trained Zeison Sha skills. Even so, he thought. In a charge of thousands of cavalry would a few thrown rocks made a difference?

I'm in the wrong place, Kamick realized. This isn't what I should be doing, marching with the nighten to their likely doom. No, their inevitable doom, he amended. Even if they win, if all the Imperials die there's a man on that frigate in orbit and he'll order a bombardment, I know he will. That's what the Empire had always done in the Kalat Arm, if they lost, they bombarded. I bet they blew up something on Kratovas after we left, he considered. It wouldn't be a surprise at all.

That's got to be stopped. The real threat's up on that ship, not down here. The labs aren't here, they're up there. It's the real danger. We, I, need to hit that ship.

But how can we? _Nomad Sentry_ can get there, Kamick remembered. Probably a one way trip, but she could get there. Well, one way, whatever, there's always escape pods, shuttles, plenty of ways off a ship, and if not, too bad. He could accept a suicide mission, it wasn't like this march was any different. The frigate's full of men though, _Nomad Sentry_ can only fit a handful, that's not enough to do the job, we'd never make it to the labs.

Then, as dawn broke over the reddish canopy, staining it bloody, he recalled what Ji had said about the enemy yesterday. Imperial army and navy personnel. Everyone's down here! The ship's got a skeleton crew aboard, plus whatever scientists there are. The trained soldiers are all down on the planet. A team could hit it!

He went to see Ji after breakfast. The noblewoman was busy, juggling many things at once, pressed into the role of adviser to the Duke, a role she did not desire, but seemed to fit her well in the deputy's eyes. "Yes?" She looked over to him as he arrived.

"I'm going back to the _Nomad Sentry_," Kamick told her.

As he'd expected, this got Ji's attention. "Excuse me?" she sputtered.

"I'm not doing any good here, so I'm going to take a mission and hit their ship," He kept his voice stern, though Ji's skeptical gaze was hard to face.

"That's madness," She told him. "There's no way you could accomplish anything on that ship! There's far too many imperials."

"No," Kamick shook his head. "They stripped the crew off to fight down here. I asked Cyc, a Pelta-class frigate has a crew of nine hundred and three hundred soldiers. That means there's at most two hundred on board, a commando team can move in against that." He didn't stop. "Ji, it has to be done, you know it as well as I do. Otherwise, winning here just means being obliterated by turbolaser fire. The labs are on that ship, we'll never get a better chance to hit them. I'm going."

"How will you get back in time?" she asked, stalling slightly. "We are far from the _Nomad Sentry_, matters here would be done before you can walk back."

"The Duke can provide horses, he must have spares," Kamick refused to be dissuaded. "Even if I have to go myself, I'm going."

"You have almost no chance," Ji looked at him with deep sadness in her eyes. "I do not want to send you to certain death."

"And your odds are great here on the ground?" he retorted, pressing ahead. "One gun won't make a difference down here, but I can make a difference up there."

"Yes, you could," Ji agreed, eyes watering. "Very well. I will give you the codes for the _Nomad Sentry_. You should ask Drado to go with you, no doubt he would desire to take part, and his help will be invaluable. Perhaps the Duke has a few warriors useful in such an operation as well."

He had intended to ask for Drado's help, but had not expected Ji to offer it. Her sudden support was shocking, and it must have shown on his face.

"There are many possibilities in such an operation," Ji explained. "If you take the ship, or even a turbolaser battery, it may be possible to end all our troubles down here in a few moments. Beyond that, we must strike at the labs, you are right. Find the scientists behind this and put an end to it. Otherwise this world, no world, can ever be free of the Empire."

She stood up. "I will go speak to the Duke," Then suddenly she turned back. "One small thing. I will not allow Chloe to go with you."

Kamick's mouth dropped open. He had not even realized it consciously, but yes, he had intended to ask the shade knight to go. She was good close-quarters fighter, and understood modern weapons better than any of the other nighten. "Why?"

"That way you will have something to come back to," Ji said cryptically.

What did she mean by that?

At mid-morning Kamick stood beside a saddled horse, with Drado and four others, all nighten warriors. Two were shade knights, one was an archer knight, and they were led by a stern-faced duel knight woman named Nicole. They were said to be elite warriors, and based on the looks the Kyuzo was giving them, Kamick believed it.

Goodbyes had been given by all in the group, though it was unclear who was more likely to perish in the coming days. Drado had given Ji a stern hug, causing the noblewoman to blush crimson at the breach of protocol. Cyc saw them off with a quick 'give 'em hell' and was back to work.

The deputy found he was facing Chloe at the last.

He had not expected the shade knight to come and see him, she had her own duties no doubt, but he was glad she was there.

"So, you are to strike at the enemy's castle while his army marches," She told him. "I wish I could go, but Lady Jia has ordered I shall lead a column of skirmishers." It was a great honor for the young woman, and certainly not one she could refuse.

"Good luck," Kamick told her. "I'm sure it will be a great victory."

"And you also," Chloe returned.

"There is something else," The deputy said in a bit of embarrassment. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a modest object; Irina's discblade. He held it out to Chloe.

"What is...?" The nighten's confusion was palpable.

"It's likely to be a rough ride," Kamick said sheepishly. "We blew out a lot of stabilizers on the way down, and I think Drado's probably going to crash us into the hangar," He babbled. "Anyway, this is brittle now, and I couldn't bear to break it like that. So could you keep it in a safe place for me?" really he didn't think the Discblade was that fragile, but he didn't want the Empire to take it from his body if he fell. They didn't deserve such a piece of art.

"I can, yes, if that is your wish," Chloe reached out, brushing his gloved hands with her gauntlets. "But you must let me give you something in return." She reached back and detached one of the red scarves from the back of her armor. "Here," She wrapped it around his shield.

Kamick felt himself blushing as Chloe leaned in close.

"And this," The shade knight yanked on the scarf with on hand, pulling him toward her. With her left hand she pulled the mask down from her face, reaching in to kiss him.

Kamick impulsively wrapped an arm around her slender waist. Her lips tasted of iron and sweat, but there was a deep tenderness and sweetness to her touch, the enhanced sensation coming from constant concealment.

Chloe pulled back after a moment, taking a breath and pulling her mask into place that he was never able to get any true glimpse of her face. "I will see you when you return." She whispered, then dashed off, shadows wrapping around her till she vanished from his sight.

Stunned, the deputy looked after her for a long moment, until Drado grunted at him. "Empires wait on no man," The Kyuzo intoned in Huttese. "And battle beckons."

"Right," Kamick nodded. They had work to do.

He swung up on the horse. "Let's go!" he yelled, kicking into motion. "Time to end this."

**Chapter Notes**

The Nighten catapults are a onager design, a fairly refined medieval weapon.

It really isn't that difficult to acquire the components to make low-quality gunpowder in a low tech environment.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27 – The Battle of Iron Gateway**

**Iron Gateway, Renigh**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

So, they are coming for sure, Ji looked out at the advancing imperial column through her macrobinoculars. The soldiers were still distant, and covered by their handful of hoverscouts, but their march was carrying them inexorably forward. Less than an hour now, she estimated.

"Send a message to the Duke," the noblewoman ordered one of the squires posted as runners. "The enemy is coming, less than an hour remains."

"Ma'am," the squire saluted and headed out.

Ji paced back and forth nervously, staring across the potential battlefield. She knew there was nothing left to do, all the plans had been made and now only the fighting remained. I am not the Duke's adviser anymore, I simply command this position, and it must not fall.

She was halfway up the pass, at a tiny stake wall thrown up across the road by the side of the small stream that had carved this great ravine. Her post was among a group of infantry at the center of a long line of archers. The bulk of the army stretched out down the sides, crouched and hidden among the young woods, ready to charge the moment the bombs started to fall. Behind her, at the top of the saddle, waited the great force of cavalry, prepared to launch the charge that would decide matters one way or another.

The Duke had wanted her up there, even though she had no idea how to ride a warhorse, or even further back, among the catapults with Cyc. She had refused. If this battle shall pit my plan against the Empire, I cannot avoid risk. She knew the current position was dangerous, possibly the most vulnerable in the whole formation, and she had chosen it specifically.

Officially Ji had justified her choice through her blaster. She had the only one on their side and was the only person experienced in using one. If the Imperial charge could be slowed she could do tremendous damage from this point. If I can take two hundred shots, I might drop fifty men, which could be the difference all by itself. For the very same reason Cyc was under orders to charge alongside the cavalry when the time came, his remaining grenades were not to be wasted.

Whatever the reason she had voiced outwardly, Ji did not expect she would be able to take those two hundred shots. The Imperials were not fools. When the attack from the sides came her position would be the most vulnerable, a decent commander would order a breakthrough and then hold this central point against all comers. We have to hold here, long enough so the Imperial formation breaks down under weight from the wings, then the cavalry can attack. Even if that happened the prospects of those in the middle were not good.

This is where I belong today, she believed. It is the place I am meant to occupy, for good or ill, it is what I have earned, and no more.

There was a light wind in the air, snapping the flags and banners sharply. Ji paused to look at them briefly. The Franmare Dominion's banner, a golden sword on a black field, hung high, but the Duke had ordered a new banner made for the Sacred Army. It placed a golden tower on a red field, a square tower, not circular, in an quiet bit of anti-Imperial symbolism. The thoughtful thoroughness of that consideration brought a small smile to Ji's lips. The nighten set great store by their symbols, and that new flag was everywhere this day.

The imperial troops took their time approaching, and keeping a watch though the macrobinoculars Ji realized that the army troopers were urging on the navy men, who were probably intimidated by the sheer number they were facing. She was able to get a clear count now, revising the total estimate. The sacred army's first few battles had not been completely fruitless, they had managed to kill or wound about one hundred of the foe, leaving only nine hundred left. A steep price for over twenty thousand of their own, but it was better than nothing at all.

Thankfully they have no vehicular support, Ji breathed. She counted a half-dozen speed bikes, which added mobility but were ultimately no more powerful than a single man with a repeater. Her plan had anticipated those, and small groups of wizards had put into place traps useful against speeders at several points. She would try to target them herself of course. Ultimately, it was promising. A single heavily armored unit could have ruined their plans. They did not think to ask for one, Ji suspected, blessing Imperial oversights. The imperial army was not a prestigious service, and these men, confined to a ship without combat for a long time, were out of practice. The frigate captain would have asked for more fighters, or other ship supports, no one had bothered with this perspective.

Three hundred men is two understrength companies, Ji recalled Captain Juro's lessons regarding imperial deployments. The senior captain will command, probably an older officer with limited talents and few actual battles under his belt. We have the edge in command, experience, and technique. The nighten were tough fighters, the knights had all undergone lifelong training regimens. Numbers tilt overwhelmingly in our favor. Morale, about even, she guessed. The Sacred Army labored beneath the weight of crushing defeats and a seemingly invincible opponent, but Ji could tell from the way the imperials advanced that they wanted no part of this, only the fear of their superior's wrath motivated them.

So it comes down to technology, it was the inevitable conclusion. There were no Zeison Sha here today. Can one droid engineer victory? They would not know until the dying began.

One worry festered at the back of the noblewoman's mind. Where are the super-soldiers? Those abominations had not been spotted by any scout, but she did not believe they had been withdrawn. Where will they act? Those creatures could make an unbelievable difference if they chose the right moment to attack. Did they still reason like men? She wondered. Or were they merely monstrous animals?

An imperial officer, wearing the tablets of a captain, led the march. His troops closed the distance inexorably. Ji's formation meant that the distance from her line to the front of the column was similar to that of all the infantry on the flanks. Six hundred meters, she counted. Cyc's bombards are two hundred behind. They have to approach to within four hundred, and preferably closer. "Make certain everyone holds," she ordered the archery commanders about her position. "We must let them come as close as possible."

The knights nodded, they understood the battle plan. She only hoped their discipline would sustain.

The imperial captain stopped the march at three hundred and fifty meters. A pity, Ji thought depressingly. It's too far. She needed them to close into range and attack.

"Listen up!" The commander raised a microphone to his face, sending a bellowing proclamation outward that echoed across the valley.

He's speaking Basic, Ji shook her head. The Empire is not even bothering to demand surrender in a language these people understand. They weren't interested in a peaceful solution, if one that demanded continual tribute of slaves could even be called that.

Despite the unintelligible nature of his words, silence descended at the captain's words.

"You who stand in armed opposition to the Galactic Empire are ordered to disperse!" He proclaimed. "Leave immediately and do not return. Those who cease resistance now shall be spared. All others shall know the full wrath of the Empire!"

Ji fingered her comlink, quickly altering settings. She did not have a device to do specifically what the captain's did, but she knew a way to create a partial solution.

"Bold words from an invader!" Ji shouted back, first in Basic, but allowing Cyc's translation protocol to repeat her words back to the nighten. "You have unlawfully laid claim to this world, and done great wrongs to its people!"

It was not usually in Ji enjoy the misery or confusion of others, but the look of shock of the Imperial's face was absolutely priceless. "They repudiate all your claims! Leave this planet now, and offer up your leaders for judgment for their crimes!"

"Or what?" The Imperial shouted back. "You'll throw rocks at us?" The man gestured with his blaster rifle, clearly not intimidated. "You have no chance resistance rabble! If you understand us, know that surrender is your only hope!"

"To die unless we surrender everything we love in tribute is no choice at all!" Ji could not take credit for the words, they were from a speech by Kenillicit, the great leader of the Velabri resistance, but she was more than willing to borrow them now. "Leave this planet, or be driven from it!"

The words did not fall on deaf ears.

"Steel! Glory! Honor!" A chorus rose about Ji, flying forth from a thousand throats, repeating again and again. The battle cry of the nighten was shouted to the red treetops, echoing down the ravine.

"Then die!" The Imperial shouted against the wind of screams, and waved his men forward.

Holding the line, the nighten kept up their cheer, weapons out, banners streaming. Archers knocked arrows, lances were raised, and helmets came crashing down. For her part Ji held her blaster rifle in her right hand, her comlink in the left. She had quickly changed it back to a communication device.

Three hundred twenty-five meters, three-twenty, three-ten, three-oh-five.

Three hundred.

E-11 blaster rifles snapped out.

"Cyc," Ji spoke quietly into her comlink. "Begin bombardment."

Above the noblewoman hammers came down and slings snapped forward, launching their little powder-filled globes of iron into the air even as the first flashes of ruby light emerged from the barrels of blaster rifles.

Ji dropped to the ground, taking aim at the captain in front.

She saw his gaze rise upwards through his sight, noting the sudden darkening of the sky by hundreds of falling balls of metal.

In the moment the first hit the ground, Ji fired.

The captain fell. Explosions ripped the air, and over ten thousand knights charged down from the trees on the hillside.

The Battle of Iron Gateway had begun.

Chloe felt the ground shake when the bombards hit, and saw fire burst and the bodies of men thrown in a way she had never believed possible. The enemy formation collapsed, as men ran and panicked, firing in all directions, ducking down to avoid the continuing rain of death.

"Attack!" the shade knight screamed, and a hundred voices joined her own as she pushed her body to charge, running as fast as she had ever run before.

Her skirmishers were on the left, charging down from among a cluster of white-barked trees at the enemy. They had one simple goal, get to the foe, and then kill as many as they could.

There was fire from the enemy, the bolts of what Kamick had called laser, a strange energy created by their powerful machines. She had thought it the fire of demons before, but he had shown her the truth. They are men of flesh and blood, no matter how advanced their armor and weapons. They can be killed.

The machine has done his work well, and the wizards have wrought great destruction. These bombs, as they had been named, sent the enemy scurrying. Chloe watched as one struck at the feet of a soldier. The man was thrown through the air, and worse, his face was pierced by tiny metal shards, rending it ruined worse than any blow from sword or arrow. If this is what the machine of the outsiders can make in a few days with no tools, what is the true power of their weapons? She had a quiver of terror, before it was buried beneath the rush of adrenalin.

I must use every tool, Chloe knew. She reached deep down even as she ran, feeling beneath her armor, to a different core, a place of focus her instructors had taught her. She had proper mastery of but one secret technique, the blessings of the almighty. Kamick claimed came from something called the Force. I will have to ask him what he meant when he returns, the shade knight's mind drifted as she reached out and wrapped the shadows about herself, hiding from all other eyes.

Even struggling with the rain of death from above, the enemy was every bit the terror she had dreamed.

One man stood crouched, and pointed his weapon at her line of skirmishes. As if he was chopping vegetables he went down the line, firing again and again, dropping knight after knight, clipping them down like grain.

Chloe rolled and shifted, hoping desperately to avoid notice, to lead her allies forward. We must reach them! She knew, even if it is me alone. There had to be something she could do, some small thing.

The shade knight had been taught one other secret technique, but had never invoked it correctly. Can I do it now? Is the Force a thing truly there?

Chloe's mind flashed to the battle on the hill, the power of the blue-haired woman who had sacrificed herself. Pure, like crystal, like that blade, that must be it!

She reached down, scrapping her gauntlet against the red dirt of the valley. Crystals on the wind! She threw a stream of dirt forward.

A little whirlwind wrapped about the shade knight, as a strange, cool, soothing wave washed over her. Your valor is great, she heard strange whispers in her mind. Never lose it, and you will go far.

The funnel of red dust shot free from her, screaming out to wrap about the enemy's troops.

It lasted only a few breaths, but this was enough to ruin their aim and stop their fire just long enough.

The gap had closed.

Chloe threw her first knife the moment she had the distance.

It struck a man in the head, bouncing off, but he was spun around, and his shot flew harmlessly upward. She threw again and again, all six of her daggers. Only one pierced flesh, cutting a man at the wrist, but all were distracting, damaging, disruptive.

Then the shade knight was among them, and other knights surrounded her, even depleted their numbers swarmed about this enemy.

A soldier turned, pointing his blaster at her. Chloe jumped high, vaulting up to slam her armored boot in his face, crushing the bones of his unprotected chin as the mail struck home. Landing hard atop him she found the gap at the neck, and plunged her katar down.

One less! She crowed, but kept moving. Her senses were at their peak, and she fought harder than she ever had, somehow knowing everything was still desperate.

The imperials fell back before the charge, falling in on each other up the hill. The bombardment had ended, and despite the continuing barrage of arrows they stood tall, firing again and again at the knights before them. Men in green armor would be borne beneath even two nighten only to blast both off and rise again. Chloe spun low, cutting on at the back of the knee of the nearest, causing him to fall forward, but he kept firing in desperation. She jumped onto his back, plunging her katar in and out. She felt bones break, but the thin trigangular blade snapped up when she pulled it out, leaving her unarmed.

Chloe rolled in the dirt, now muddied with blood, searching for a weapon.

Her hands wrapped around a slender sword, and she grasped it desperately.

I must get back in the fight! She swore.

Turning to find the enemy still moving back up the hill, the shade knight took heart. We are hurting them! The cavalry can break them! She took a step forward.

Something she could not explain pulled her gaze right, back toward the trees.

In the blink of an eye she saw a silhouette passed by there, a thing like a man, but bounding past faster than a hunting leaper.

The monsters! She recognized them immediately, that hilltop battle was seared into her mind. Creations of the Empire, Kamick had called them, and even the blaster weapons had been unable to stop them, only the Force, and great sacrifice.

They are headed to the crest. The Duke! Lady Jia!

Chloe wished she had one of the machines Kamick called a comlink, anything, but she had no way to warn those above of the monsters before them.

"Lady Jia!" Chloe screamed anyway, with all her strength. "They are coming!"

Then she did the only thing remaining to her and charged back into battle.

Chaos. Ji knew absolute chaos for the first time. She scrambled across trampled earth, rolling from an overturned cart to behind a fallen body, firing all but blind as she did so.

Ruby bolts came in answer.

They know I'm here, Ji had realized only moments into the battle, and they're trying very hard to put an end to me.

Imperial fire had tracked her almost from the outset, reducing the utility of her precious blaster rifle to almost nothing. Ji did not mind the trade in principle, fire concentrated against one woman was not being poured into the mass of nighten all around, and slowed the imperial advance. As a personal matter, however, she felt the noose tightening about her.

The snap of bowstrings and whistle of arrows filled the air all around her, as the archers aimed and fired as fast as they could draw. They were falling even faster.

It had unfolded as she predicted, the Empire was trying to take this open space above all costs. They had no choice but to do it now, she could take some satisfaction in that. Cyc's gunpowder attack had gone off beautifully, and both flanks had managed to hit the column hard, especially on the left.

A potential rout had become a bloodbath, but in the face of death the Imperials had solidified, falling back on the iron-hard basic training beaten into them by aging clones and veteran stormtroopers. They knew their weapons, and were dropping the knights around them in vast numbers, soon they would break free.

We have to hold here, can't let them pass through until the cavalry are going to charge. It was still far from settled.

Ji rolled about again, pointing downrange and firing, she thought she hit something this time, and searched through the clouds of dust and grit for another target.

There! A group of imperials had plunged into the river, and were wading their way forward, using the slick rocks to keep the nighten at arms length.

Quickly the squad leader fired again and again, not hardly aiming for the Imperials. Hitting the water with blaster bolts shot bursts of superheated steam into the air, inflicting terrible burns on exposed flesh. The soldiers stopped shooting, clawing at their faces in pain.

Ruby bolts traced toward her, and Ji scurried back, pushing the nighten corpse as a shield. I have to hang on, she knew. There was nowhere to go.

An archer knight crossed in front of her and took a bolt to the hip. He collapsed to one knee, but did not fall. Ji watched in awe as the knight drew back his bow and launched an arrow anyway.

The broad-headed steel point penetrated the nearest trooper's face at the right eye, even as another bolt drilled through the archer's chest.

There is still hope! Ji flipped back, rising to one knee and blasting at a pair of advancing Imperials, clipping both with glancing hits, knocking them down. Little moments like that of the archer would add up. They might have enough weight to turn the tide, if it was given a chance to happen.

A moment later Ji felt her eyes drawn out past the immediate enemy to the flanks, and she glimpsed a flickering movement.

Needs of battle overtook her after that, but she looked again as she crouched in a tiny gully, gasping for breath.

Oh no, Ji saw it clearly this time, an almost-blur charging up the slow, ignoring the imperials and nighten alike.

The remaining super-soldiers had come, and they were charging her line.

No, if we fall now it will be too soon!

"Rally to the flag! Rally!" Heedless of risk, Ji rose to her feet, running and strafing as she moved back to the now ragged tower banner at the center of the line.

Several knights heard her, and managed to make a scurrying adjustment back to their banner.

The four monstrous beings emerged into the open.

Fire from the Imperials and the archers went on in other directions, but as those horrific things, so sleek and perfect and yet abominable, stepped forward, no one moved.

"Demons!" One of the nighten shouted.

"Demons, monsters, or gods!" Ji raised her voice as far as it could go. "We must hold!"

The super-soldiers laughed, and they charged.

The Duke had ordered a dozen shade knights, the best of their order, hidden in the dirt just in front of the road. They emerged now, knives flying free at the monsters, counter-charging and attacking.

Top-tier fighters all, they were no match for this opponent. Some managed desperate strikes, drawing flickers of blood, but their weapons turned against tough skin and muscles strong as steel. Only a direct thrust could possibly win through, and they had no chance to gain that.

Clawing clear through armor with their sharpened nails, the engineered myrmidons completed their carnage in seconds.

No, Ji breathed. "No."

Casually one of the monsters spun the body of a shade knight around, flinging it forward through the main banner pole, sending the flag crashing to the dirt.

"Demons!"

It was too much for the nighten soldiers. Already having endured a horrible pounding at the hands of the imperial army, they could not face foes who grabbed arrows out of midair and twisted off heads with bear hands.

They broke and ran.

I should be running, the logical part of Ji's mind was telling her. I've lost this post, and at the worst possible time. The Empire is coming up, and these creatures will kill the Duke and there will be no charge.

She wasn't listening to the logical part of her mind.

I will not run and die. I said I would hold this post, and I will die before I abandon it.

Her limbs acting as if they were not her own, Ji threw her rifle to the side. It was useless against this enemy. With an unearthly calm she drew out her vibro-pike; telescoping the weapon to its full length.

The noblewoman realized she stood alone on the road, the four creatures born from the Empire's labs and the blood of the Desga stood before her. It felt as if the battle had all but stopped, only distant fighting continuing far from view.

"Run little wretch," One of the monsters hissed. "You have failed."

"While this position holds, the battle goes on," Ji retorted, the words slipping out as if from someone else's throat. "And even alone, I still stand here. If you want it, you will have to drive me out!"

The creature laughed, a sound that was far too human from such an atrocity of science. "Then fall and die in the mud!"

It charged.

Ji's brought up her pike to meet it.

I will not survive, the recognition of this truth brought absolutely clarity to her, and seemed to slow down time. But I can still kill them.

The monster dashed in, springing at the last moment, hands extended.

Ji took a half-step back, knowing she could not beat the creature's timing, and let her pike slide back down, choking up far.

Claws ripped into her sides.

Guided by pain the noblewoman shifted her weight, throwing her body and her weapon forward in a vise grip.

The spearhead, screaming with ultrasonic vibrations, broke through the monster's chest, ripping a huge hole.

Shock did not register with these monsters. The next one stepped up and swung across, ripping Ji in the face, even as the first was still tearing free from her blade.

She took the blow, using the beast's unbelievable strength to spin her small body a full three hundred and sixty degrees in the air, her one thought to hold onto her weapon.

Whipping around Ji shot out the sturdy durasteel alloy shaft, letting the deadly spearhead do the rest.

The myrmidon was sawed in half at the waist.

Ji was beyond pain, blood ruled her vision, and parts of her body no longer registered, but she somehow dropped into a fighting stance.

More cautious now, the third one charged.

Ji charged to meet it.

At the second stride she twisted her wrists, reducing her weapon back down to the two decimeter cylinder topped with a deadly head.

Crouching low to avoid the long spear, the abomination was out of position, but its counter was incredibly swift.

It hit head on, and buried its head against her thigh, tearing into human flesh with sharp teeth.

Ji slammed her other leg across against it, holding it in place for just an instant, long enough to bring the spearhead down on the top of the monster's head, carving a gory end.

The great momentum of the enhanced being slammed her to the ground. She did not rise, but flexed her knees, throwing the body atop her own, crushingly heavy.

Clawed hands, backed by corded muscle, slammed down through the ruined flesh, pinning Ji's shoulders. "I will crush you!" A feral voice bellowed.

Ji could not find the strength to speak, and could not move her arms, but that was not her plan. Flexing her hips she twisted the vibro-pike's shaft against her body.

Telescoping to full size it burst through the corpse and into the chest of the last super-soldier.

The myrmidon struggled for a moment, but Ji let her pain lose, thrashing madly, twisting the blade about in a crazy spastic pattern, the vibro-weapon ripping great gouges of flesh free.

Ruined body tearing away from the wound, the last of the creatures fell to the side.

It was over.

In a haze of pain and blood Ji crawled free of the bodies. Her mind reeled unable to focus, knowing she was dying, massive blood loss and trauma, with the enemy all around her.

Have to hold the position, it was the only thought remaining in her consciousness.

She crawled forward, and her hands passed over something.

Blinking through the red sea, Ji's eyes saw the torn flag of the sacred army, the golden tower stained blood red.

If the banner stands, the fort stands, it was an old military proverb she'd heard once, rising from the wreckage of her awareness at this moment.

Stands...it has to stand.

She grasped at the banner, wrapping it about the shaft of her pike.

With the last of her strength Ji slammed the spearhead into the ground at her feet.

She collapsed against the improvised flagpole.

Cyc stood on the saddle of the river valley, watching the battle unfold. The murderous carnage was disturbing to him. How could creatures with such short lives so willfully engage in such warfare? Why did the Empire have to push the galaxy so hard it pushed back no matter the cost? The droid had no answers to those questions, and could only watch, waiting for his chance.

All went to plan for a time, Ji and the Duke had devised their scheme well, he had to admit, considering their limited facilities. They had the Empire pegged. Soon the cavalry would charge and it would be decided for good.

Then the unexpected happened, the forward line, the position Ji had stressed, suddenly fell apart. The knights, so valiant in the face of impossible odds, broke apart before an enemy that could barely be seen.

Curiosity over-coming his sense of risk Cyc dashed forward. He had no macorbinoculars of his own, but he could adjust his optical sensors to zoom in on distant objects, and did so now.

The experimental soldiers! The droid saw the explanation immediately.

Well, that's that then, he reasoned. The enemy had brought out its trump card and won the day, the nighten could not stand against such beings, monsters from their legends.

He was oddly disappointed. Probability was always against us, but it would have been nice to achieve the underdog victory.

They his gaze caught something else, a flash of green on the bloody field.

Ji! It was an instant act of recognition for his databanks. What is she doing there? Is she insane?

Get out! Cyc had no desire for the woman to throw her life away. She'd been a first rate companion, if a bit impatient with his explanations. Why sacrifice yourself?

The noblewoman's battle unfolded before his eyes in all its desperate glory, but the droid did not reason on only one level. His sensors brought in dozens of other data streams and constantly added them to the analysis matrix that existed just below his consciousness. So it was that he recognized this as a focal point in the battle. All other engagements had struck an impasse. It was as if the whole world was watching.

With better vision than any remaining combatant, Cyc watched as Ji put forth her final gesture, raising the flag up.

The wind caught it, and the droid reached a conclusion for only the second time in his life, not since his awakening to true consciousness had he recognized the exact pivot of the moment in this way. Then he had reacted with confusion, uncertain what it meant.

This time he reacted with action.

Cyc's vocabulator had a range far greater than a human's, but he went beyond the specs now, overriding safeguard after safeguard and distributing power in a way that had never been designed.

When he spoke his voice thundered as if the heavens had opened.

"Counterattack!"

It echoed over the river valley, reaching twenty thousand ears, applying a singular purpose to all that had just unfolded moments before.

In muddy fields wounded nighten, believing their enemies invincible, rose to their feet and struck out with their swords. Archer knights pulled back their bows further and fired once more. Falling back under the cloud of fear, knights turned about and charged again, harder than ever. Fighters in desperate melee pressed the attack, heedless of their own safety.

And from the top of the ridge, seven thousand lancer knights roared out a single charge.

The earth shook at their coming, and the imperial soldiers, facing enemies on all sides who refused to die, caught exposed and scattered, could not gather the strength to withstand the onslaught.

The droid ran with the charging horsemen, his metal feet churning the dirt before their lines. His mission was not destruction, no, he had an entirely different goal in mind.

Jia Ji had given him a moment of profound understanding, a blessing he had never expected to receive on this backwater mudball. If she lived, he was not going to let her die. Modern medicine could save her, and Cyc refused to calculate whether he would make it in time.

**Chapter Notes**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28 – Forms of Armor**

**Nomad Sentry, Renigh**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

"Okay Drado," Kamick told the Kyuzo. "Punch it, it's now or never."

The warrior gunned the engines, and the battered little pinnace rocketed upward, accelerating at full throttle.

So this is it, Kamick thought. Take the frigate, or die trying. He'd gotten a comlink burst only minutes past from Ji. Her battle was about to begin. So it's all going to happen at once. Somehow that didn't surprise him, it seemed like it was inevitable.

"I cannot believe this!" the duel knight Nicole whooped, her stern and stone-faced demeanor shattered by the thrill of flight. "It is unbelievable!"

"It would be better if we weren't rattling so much," Drado cursed dryly in Huttese.

Kamick couldn't help but agree, but he didn't say anything, let the nighten have their moment, there wasn't likely to be another one.

"Just keep your weapons ready," Kamick told her. "We're going to come in hot."

The atmosphere faded into the blackness of space, and the distant sliver of the frigate emerged.

"Okay Drado, it's all you, get us on board." Kamick gave one last urging, though the warrior needed no encouragement.

Eyes narrowed and focused, the Kyuzo's hands rested lightly on the controls, waiting for the Empire to make a move.

The turbolaser fire started at maximum range.

"Hold on," The deputy told the knights, as they awed at the incredible firepower of starship weapons.

Drado slewed the ship down and right, then back up again, a complex crisscross pattern to avoid the mighty batteries.

It gets worse, Kamick knew, the frigate had point defense lasers and tractor beams to use once they closed.

_Nomad Sentry_ spun about like a top, a crazed and mad target, dodging flailing tractor operators who tried to grab the ship in place so it could be pounded to pieces. The Kyuzo's green hands dashed over the console, redistributing power, strengthening the shields as the point defense guns started to batter the little vessel.

"Hangar bay in sight!" Kamick pointed out their objective.

Drado grunted, working furiously.

They blasted towards it.

We're coming in awfully fast, Kamick thought. It doesn't do us any good to make it if we smash flat against the back wall.

At the last moment Drado swung the ship on its axis, and blasted the engines at a full power burst, slowing the vessel and blowing through the security field at the same time.

_Nomad Sentry_'s engines gave everything they had, then sputtered and died.

Still too fast! "Brace yourselves!" Kamick shouted, grabbing hold of the seat with all his strength.

They struck, bounced, skidded, bounced again, went into a flat spin, and then slammed against the side of the hangar.

Kamick felt ridiculously dizzy; one of the shade knights vomited all over the mangled deck. The other clapped him on the back weakly.

"Everyone still breathing?" The deputy queried, shaking his head to clear the stars.

"For now," Drado answered grimly. The Kyuzo obviously liked their odds no better than the deputy.

"Then let's move," Kamick told the others. "They'll be coming."

The hatch was bent and warped, failing to open automatically, so he and Nicole kicked it open, crawling out into the darkened hangar bay, alarms blaring all around them.

Two crewmen, armed with blaster pistols, came running.

Kamick rolled away from the knight, firing as he went. One man fell, the other took a dagger to the throat.

"Nice," The deputy complemented the shade knight. Drado emerged next, the Kyuzo squeezing his tall body through the gap and immediately moving to secure the hangar door.

The deputy looked at one of the bodies. Techs, he realized, not soldiers. They are all on the planet, we've got a real chance at this. He grabbed a datapad from the dead man's coveralls. "Come on," He muttered. "Give me a layout, just one rutting image."

He brought up a maintenance schematic of the ship. There was a huge area in the center of the vessel blotted out. That's it, Kamick knew. The labs have got to be that. "Okay, let's move, this way!" he picked one of the halls and led them down, Drado at his side.

They ran down the halls, briefly unblocked, but security partitions slammed shut in front of them. "Damn!" Kamick had been afraid of this. He looked at the maintenance diagram again. "Okay, two corridors over is the emergency fire route, if we can punch in an alarm, all the doors should open."

It was an obvious move, and the imperials were not droids. Their commander positioned them accordingly. A squad of men rounded on the hall blocking their passage.

The first two jumped behind cover, firing rapidly.

Kamick reached into the Force, grabbing one man, hauling him into the open.

He took a fatal bowshot to the face.

Nicole slid past him, skidding on the smooth deck plating, coming in under the fire then twisting upright at the last moment to slice the man's throat open.

This gave Drado time to charge, hat leading, into the enemy formation. The Kyuzo jumped up, running on the wall, spraying one side, then leaping across the corridor to strike down the other. Six men fell in as many seconds.

Ji, I owe you one big time for letting him come along, the deputy breathed. He raced forward, looking for a fire control panel. Two ways to start an alarm, trigger the console, or start a fire. The imperial system was locked down, no time to override it. "Well, do it the hard way then!" He motioned for one of the shade knights to help him, grabbed a fallen imperial, and dragged the body over to the sensor. I'm going to hate myself in the morning for this, Kamick knew, and I should. He fired repeatedly into the body, until the energy bled over, and the man's clothes caught fire.

The blaring of the security alarms was joined by a high screaming warble as the fire alarms went off.

"Go! Go!" Kamick motioned, letting Drado lead the way.

They charged down the narrow hall, passing several secured turn-offs. Got to reach the emergency turbolift shaft. It's not far.

There was a flicker of warning from the Force. "Ambush!" Kamick blurted, though he saw nothing.

A pair of door opened on each side of the hallway, each concealing an armed Imperial.

There was a shade knight in the middle. The nighten reacted quickly, spinning and burying his fighting daggers in the nearest man. The other shot him in the back in the same moment Nicole pierced his neck with her blade.

"Rut!" Kamick cursed, there was no saving the warrior, it had blown clean through the armor in an instantly lethal hit.

"Mourn later," Nicole whispered. "More are coming."

"Right, let's go," He agreed. They'll be waiting at the turbolift, he knew.

And they were.

At least a dozen navy personnel, under the leadership of a lieutenant, stood behind hastily stacked crates. They opened fire the moment they had a shot.

Kamick ducked behind his shield, and everyone scattered in the brief clearing.

"Concentrate fire!" The lieutenant screamed his orders, firing his blaster pistol ruthlessly even when the man next to him took an arrow in the eye.

Kamick dropped to one knee, letting the Force guide his arm. There was no time to think about anything but shooting. Target, fire, and again. One man in the chest, the next in the head, then through the blaster.

Drado stood tall, running to the side heedless of enemy fire. The Kyuzo hurled his hat, bouncing it off the ceiling to throw three imperials sprawling. The shade knight was somehow there in the next moment, knives descending, ending the lives of three enemies.

"Resistance dogs!" The lieutenant shot the knight again and again.

The archer took a graze to the left leg, stumbling, but Kamick grabbed him with the Force, pulling him from the line of fire.

Drado surmounted the crates then, and knives rained from his hands, dropping the remaining Imperials to the ground. Nicole struck from the other side, slicing the lieutenant open and then piercing him through the breast.

"Are you all right?" Kamick demanded of their archer.

"I cannot stand," The man shook his head. "I will hold them here, give me one of their weapons."

No, I will not do this, the deputy refused to even contemplate it, and stood in silence while the knight looked at him pleadingly.

"It must be," Nicole put a gauntlet-covered hand on his arm. Her veteran's face was stern and uncompromising. "We cannot stop here."

Drado placed one of the E-11's in the archers hands. The Kyuzo quickly added a fresh power pack and disabled the safety. "Pull here," He mimed pulling the trigger. The warrior easily picked up the armored knight and lifted him to behind the boxes.

"Let's move," Kamick couldn't look back.

Drado fired his grapple onto a loading spar, then jumped down into the darkness of the turbolift column.

Once he heard the Kyuzo hit, the deputy and Nicole grasped the rope and slid down after him.

"Lab access should be beyond the partitions there," They had less than twenty meters of intersection to cross.

Footsteps rang out.

"Attack!" Nicole shouted, and they charged across.

The first trooper descended from an adjoining turbolift directly into the duel knight's blade. Kamick stuck with Drado, back to back with the Kyuzo as enemies raced to intercept them. He fired from behind his shield, dropping a pair of men as the warrior let into several turbolifts with his repeater, cutting all access off.

"Nicole, get back!" Kamick shouted as a trio of armed scientists, men in lab outfits, not uniforms, emerged when a repusorlift door sluiced open.

The duel knight paid no heed. "Franmare!" She shouted, and charged.

Novices with blasters, the first few shots went wide, and the expert blade sliced with brilliant speed. Two men fell.

Nicole spun, armor shining, throwing droplets of blood through the air, golden and deadly.

Her sword ripped the last man's stomach open.

Holding his belly in, the tech managed a wild shot. It missed, but the ricochet struck the knight in the back of the skull.

Her eyes rolled up in her head, and she clattered down to the deck plating.

"No!" Kamick shouted, blasting a final armed navy crewman with two quick shots. The whole team the Duke had sent, destroyed so quickly.

"Advance," Drado hissed from his side. "There is nothing else."

So they did, entering the laboratory of _Arcane Lash_.

This is an abattoir, Kamick's mind reeled from what he saw.

Tanks and tables, filled with nighten, all ripped apart by surgical instruments, consumed by the brutal demands of whatever cruelty had happened here. All to discover the secrets of their armor, he knew, so they could graft it onto those monsters Irina destroyed. What kind of sickening mind could even dream of such things?

The floor was stained with blood, and the metallic smell of iron filled the air.

Terrified technicians huddled here and there behind tables or cabinets, pleading to be spared.

Whatever they had done, Kamick was not going to raise his weapon against unarmed and non-resisting opponents, it went against everything he'd been trained to do.

Drado was not so discriminating. "This knowledge must be purged," The Kyuzo whispered as he conducted a precision campaign.

Kamick thought to tell the Kyuzo to stop, but simply could not find the words.

They advanced through the labs, there was no pursuit, perhaps the rest of the crew was occupied with essential duties, or it was simply taking time to gather a suitable kill squad. Kamick took heart in that. "We've got to find the files, the data in the central archive." While Drado had struck at living targets, he had blown apart terminals, datapads, stacks of datacards, even piles of flimsy, anything he thought would contain the secrets, but the deputy was sure that just like on Kratovas there was a central link.

We haven't found the black heart of this yet, he could feel it. There was something deeper, and it was waiting for them.

They came to the end of the lab, a doorway labeled 'Testing Chamber.'

This is it, Kamick thought for certain.

The door was sealed, but the key pad was relatively simple, designed to stop snooping maintenance droids and curious techs, not armed incursions. "I think I can hotwire it," The deputy offered. "Stand ready to blow through anything when it opens."

Drado nodded, and took up position with his repeating blaster at the ready.

Kamick ripped the panel off and switched the wires about. The door shuddered. Close, he tried another combination, keeping his blaster ready. There was no telling what awaited them, but it wasn't good.

The door flew open.

Drado growled, and Kamick turned to see the Kyuzo warrior's hand go to the trigger.

Faster than he could follow an arm shot out, smashing straight into the warrior's chest, hurling him back to slam into a cabinet with impossible force.

The Kyuzo warrior gave a single groan and slid to the floor, unconscious.

"Drado!" Kamick turned to his fallen ally, then felt the threat on his left.

He spun back, raising his shield and blaster in tandem, only to have them ripped from his arms.

"Really?" A voice filled the room with cold amusement.

Kamick's eyes focused upon a nightmarish horror.

It had a basic humanoid shape, but that was all it possessed. There were solid white-gray eyes, and a slim body that was a compact fusion of powerful muscle. The body was sheathed in shimmering black, moving to match every flex and contortion of skin and bone perfectly. The hands ended in narrow claws, sickeningly sharp.

At first the deputy though he was facing one of the myrmidon monstrosities Irina had defeated on Renigh, but this creature was different. It was clearly a man, not those androgynous beasts and the eyes held not a feral cruelty, but a dark, brilliant malevolence. Where those creatures had possessed a raw, pained aura filled with darkness, this thing was a black pulsar, giving off dark energy in precise, terrifying waves.

"A handful of primitives, a miserable alien, and one deluded human are all you though it would take to stop me?" Kamick watched as this man, for he felt an odd echo of humanity from it, though it had long forsaken everything he would consider properly human, took his blaster in one hand. He made a fist and crushed it to shattered parts as the deputy watched. Then he grabbed the shield at each end and pulled.

Horror building in him Kamick watched as the heavy reinforced plastoid armor was pulled apart before his eyes. "Clearly you are delusional fools," The man said in his dark voice.

Kamick burned at being mocked so. He reached out with the Force, grabbing Drado's hat and hurling it like a discblade with all his strength.

It smashed into the shining black coating and shattered, the much scarred plating buckled and spraying in all directions.

The twisted man's head did not shift even an inch.

"The armor..." Kamick felt a sickening blot in his stomach, horror, fear, and worse mixed together.

"Oh?" This appeared to amuse the man. "You managed to figure out what I was working on? How ingenious, you resistance people are smarter than I thought, no wonder you've managed to cause the Empire so much trouble." He shrugged, a casual motion that did not fit the compact power of the form. "Well no matter, nothing can alter the course at this stage."

"Who, what, are you?" Kamick struggled for some point of focus in the chaotic storm of emotion enveloping him.

"I am Doctor Livius Entrene," He said pompously, speaking for history, not Kamick's benefit. "You are standing before my completed vision, the ideal human specimen combined with invincible armor. A warrior without peer and unbeatable!"

"Nothing is invincible!" Kamick retorted. "We destroyed all the others!"

"Fool, those were the stage one designs," Entrene scoffed, clearly amused. "Useful as a development platform, but ultimately simply a stepping stone. The project is now complete, you are looking upon the final stage!" He proclaimed.

"You performed the experiment on yourself?" What madness was that?

"Of course, you whimpering idiot, I had to be sure I was prepared to control subsequent iterations," Entrene explained as if this should have been obvious. "Also, it is quite clear that many even within the Empire will oppose the realization of my perfect army. Taking steps to protect myself was clearly a necessary precaution, as you yourself evidence."

This is the man behind it all, Kamick understood then. It was his genius that put the pieces together, that solved the puzzle Cyc had proclaimed all but impossible to accomplish. The armor of the ancient desga, and the combined potency of dozens of races of their descendent progeny had been combined into a single, devastatingly powerful form. I have to destroy him, otherwise, even if all the records were erased, all data removed, he could recreate the process elsewhere. The Empire has the resources to churn out millions of these supreme warriors.

But how can I, he's invincible? He had no idea. Can the Force destroy him? Yes, it could, if only I could do what Irina did. She had channeled absolute zero, peeled back the laws of physics, that could shatter even this man. Kamick focused, trying to feel the power of the Force, to feel the movement of the cells, and to make everything stop.

All it left him was gasping for breath, sweat pouring off his brow.

"You are attempting something," Entrene noted, looking at him curiously. "Despite the impossibility of you accomplishing anything, it would be unwise to leave a loose end."

He raised a black-coated arm.

This is it, Kamick knew. The end of it all. He could see it in his mind's eye, the invincible legions marching across world after world, soulless, emotionless, killing machines worse than the droids of the Clone Wars, twisting everything they found into ideal and unresisting servants of the Empire. Doom, and because I'm too weak to stop it. My failure again.

Something inside dismissed that. No! The power is there! His armor's only on the outside, the Force can ignore that. I could reach out right now, Kamick recognized, and stop his heart. Crush it down to nothing, even reinforced as it is. That would put an end to this, and the Empire's plans for a perfect legion.

He reached out, raising his hand even as Entrene lower his, and prepared to end the life of this scientist, there was no way the man could stop it.

No armor could stop it.

Kamick's head bent down, and he saw a scrap of color there, bright, shining red, not the cold red of blood.

A piece of Chloe's scarf.

He looked up then, and saw his hand crush not Entrene's heart, but hers.

Armor is more than metal and plastoid, a voice in his head seemed to say, a wise and recognizable voice he'd yearned to hear. Shatter it, and you destroy more than just the covering.

Kamick lowered his hand, redirecting his focus, lurching back just in time to avoid Entrene's counterstroke.

The Dark Side.

He could still feel the desire to kill the scientist, to murder him. I have the best of reasons! He could save he galaxy!

And doom it, the cool, steady voice reminded him.

His mind raced down that path, and he saw it. Killing Entrene, but not destroying the research, taking it, giving it to the Discblade Alliance, after all they had paid such a heavy price for it. He would set safeguards, checks and balances, all sorts of things, but it would be given into the hands of people, and people are imperfect. In the end, the knowledge would cover the galaxy with competing perfect armies, tearing at each other and unable to die.

"I pledged to keep the outback safe," Kamick rose to his feet, ignoring the puzzled look on the doctor's face. "To keep it safe, that was part of the oath, and the worst crime a cop can commit, is to become a danger to those he serves."

"A cop?" Entrene laughed. "A member of the resistance dares to think he serves the law?"

"Law is not just what the emperor decrees!" Kamick shot back, remembering for the first time since being captured by the slavers just why he had decided to swear that oath. My parents worked hard for years, but without law, it could all be snatched away in an instant. The galaxy is full of monsters, and some has to stand between them and the people. "There are some laws that are given to us all, fundamentals belonging to everyone that can never be taken away!" The Force is part of it, he realized. The Force stands for everyone, for life itself, and the right of life to continue even when the universe tries to snuff it out.

"Enough prattling!" Entrene snapped. "I've wasted far too much time with you already."

The doctor launched himself at Kamick.

The deputy drew on the Force and jumped back, but barely in time.

"Ah, I see, you can use what they call the Force," The scientist concluded, rubbing his chin with one hand. "That is interesting, it makes for a suitable test. I assure you, my full strength and speed have not yet been reached."

I can't dodge again, Kamick realized. I need a weapon, something to stop him!

Entrene sprang carbonite-covered legs launching him with impossible power.

Kamick reached into the Force, letting his intuition take its course.

The shattered bodies of nighten lay all about the lab, not simply flesh and bone, but their armor as well.

Dozens of pieces gathered in Kamick's sweep, the steel darting through the air, flowing together, shifting linking, adjusting, wrapping about his arm in a solid rectangle.

A shield.

Kamick stepped into the attack, crouching down, blocking both hands, then lifting, snapping his left arm upward.

The doctor was thrown over his head, tumbling and crashing through the medical equipment.

"I am a Sheriff's Deputy and Zeison Sha! The Shield of the People!"

Without any input on Kamick's part a small scrap of metal shifted over to slide against his left breast. It held the shape of a badge, a shield, imprinted with a tiny rendering of a discblade.

Now you are ready, he heard Irina's voice clearly this time. Stand forth warrior, the hour is dark, and you are needed.

"A shield," Entrene rose to his feet unmarked. "How quaint, but whatever your tricks, you still have no weapon!" Arms out, carbonite nails like deadly claws, he charged.

Kamick blocked, spinning round, but Entrene planted his feet, sweeping wildly, forcing the Zeison Sha back.

"My shield is my weapon!" Kamcik threw out his arm.

Jagged shards of armor separated, an unleashed storm of improvised blades whirling around the doctor, slamming him again and again. He fell to the plating behind a pile of bodies.

Kamick pulled the shield back, even as he heard Entrene laughing.

"You fool!" the doctor cackled madly. "Your strikes do nothing but channel energy and make me more powerful! You cannot penetrate my armor."

"The Force can!" Kamick shot back, disguising his worry. He felt the Force all around him, clearer than ever before, but could he defeat Entrene? I have no choice but to try. "You are guilty of crimes so heinous they have no name, and I'm taking you down!" He advanced, stride quickening with each step.

"Try it fool, we'll see if the Force still has anything left," Entrene launched his augmented body right back.

They met it midair, claws against shield. Kamick kicked out, throwing Entrene to the plating, sending the strength of the Force along with the blow.

The man's internals were reinforced almost as much as the outside, he bounced back, and launched a flying back kick that hit Kamick in the side.

Thrown down, the deputy barely managed to rise in time before the monster was on him, claws everywhere.

The left hand came in too fast, ripping a burning gouge down Kamick's chest.

He burst the shield apart again, throwing the monster off, but it bought only a moment.

Punch, kick, counter, rip and tear, they clashed, Entrene growing poised and gleeful, more powerful by the minute, Kamick accumulating bleeding scratches.

He's going to bleed me dry! There's no way to stop him! He felt a moment of despair. The armor really was invincible.

No, Kamick shook his head. That's not right! I've seen it beaten, by the Empire itself!

Get it hot enough and it melts, he recalled Cyc had said those words. Sustained heat, that was the way. But how?

Entrene drove Kamick back, out of the lab and into the testing chamber, atop equipment clearly used for the transformation. It hummed and throbbed, great machines with massive amounts of electrical power.

The deputy flipped over the doctor, placing is back to the lab and earning a jagged laceration across his shoulder as a result. I can barely feel my left arm, I've got hardly anything left. How can I melt his armor.

Temperature is energy, Irina had said when she made ice.

That's right, cold is an illusion, its only the absence of heat. Heat is motion, a lot of motion. He looked at Entrene's machines.

Temperature is motion, motion is energy, and the Force can move energy.

He knew what he had to do, he just needed time.

Time I don't have.

Entrene was about to rip him apart.

He's too fast, too strong, I'll never get the chance. How do you beat the ultimate warrior?

Deception.

It had been Drado's advice, and there was no better warrior. Only now, when all the strength the Force could give him was not enough, did he realize what it meant.

"Stop!" The deputy shouted at Entrene. "Take one step forward and I'll destroy your machines."

The doctor stopped in mid-step. "And how would you do that?" He projected flippancy, but there was real concern.

"I'll rip out the capacitors with the Force, triggering an overload," It was garble, Kamick's focus wasn't on that, he wasn't even looking at Entrene. He was looking up, to the fusion engines powering the chamber, and watching the lights slowly dim. "Then I'll snap your carbonite containment, flood the whole lab with molten metal."

"You'll never get the chance before I take your head from your shoulders," Entrene hissed, but he sounded worried.

"Want to risk it?" Kamick taunted.

Entrene, whatever his madness, was a smart man. He was quick to sense the stall. "Yes, I can always rebuild the machines!" His muscles gathered power and he sprang with twice the speed and strength as before, impossible to block.

Except he didn't.

Kamick wasn't sure how he was doing it, he was mimicking a process he did not understand, a technique developed by engineers twenty millenniums before he was born, but he could feel the heat, the incredible energy gathering in him like the heart of a star. He was frozen in place, everything slowed to a crawl, all his focus demanded on this one singular, unique act, guided by the focus on the Force.

Entrene seemed to advance in slow motion, coming ever so close.

As he did Kamick's left arm moved, the shield settled in front of those outreached claws, absorbing the power of their assault.

"Do you know how the Nighten get rid of plague?" He asked the suddenly wide-eyed scientist. "They cleanse it with flame!"

Kamick slammed the shield to the deck. Energy poured out of him, a massive, tremendous gout of fire, expanding in a terrible fireball to sweep over Entrene and all his machines, his research, it ate through the hull below, blasting a circular crater in the side of the frigate.

There was nothing but a puddle of black to mark the fallen scientist.

Falling to the ground, weak and unable to even stand, the deputy realized he was looking out into open space, and felt the wind of decompression begin to tug at him.

A slow slid into the frozen void? He thought wryly. Fair enough, if that's what comes next, I guess it's the consequence of going so far.

He felt his vision dim a little from the combination of blood loss and declining oxygen levels.

Kind of an embarrassing way to go, Kamick thought. I'd have rather gone up in flames.

Shame I won't get to see Chloe again, sorry about that Ji. It was a regret, and it hurt, but even clawing at the deck plating with his fingers proved impossible, his body would not obey.

A green hand closed on his left bicep.

Kamick felt his body be lifted upright, and hauled like a tiny child back out into the lab, the door slammed shut behind them, rendering the danger of decompression distant. Then he was being sprayed with bandage, the sting of antiseptic made him cringe. "Drado?" The deputy was unsurprised to discover his voice was nothing more than a weak rasp. "You're alive? You saved me?"

"You broke my hat," the Kyuzo said in gruff Huttese. "Can't have you die until you find me a new one."

Kamick laughed, until it was broken up by pain.

"Time to go," Drado added when finished with emergency first aid. "Lingered here too long."

The Kyuzo slung him over one shoulder, so that if he bent his head he could see forward. They walked slowly back out of the labs. Kamick could tell Drado was hurt himself, fractured ribs he guessed from the warrior's wheezing, and perhaps other injuries. Can we find a shuttle like this? It seemed foolish, after what had just happened, to be afflicted with such mundane concerns, but they were very real.

So was the imperial officer who waited at the turbolift shaft. He had a pistol drawn at his hip, but projected no direct hostility. His uniform bore the three blue and red rectangles of a captain of the navy. This is the ship's commander, Kamick knew immediately. Where are his men?

"Stop," The man ordered, gesturing with his blaster pistol.

"Who are you?" The deputy demanded, suspecting that if this man had intended to shoot he would have done so immediately.

"Captain Temel Ruskar, Imperial Navy, and commanding officer of the Arcane Lash," The man said it with pained pride. "And you sir, have ruined my ship."

"It had to be done," Kamick wasn't about to apologize. "If you're going to start shooting, get on with it, Drado and I are rather tired."

"It had to be done," Captain Ruskar was a middle-aged man, and somehow he seemed wearier than Kamick himself was, as odd as that would be. "Yes, it did, it was necessary. Dr. Entrene's madness would have brought nothing but destruction and corruption. It was a mad dream, a dream unfit for the Empire."

Kamick didn't interrupt. He had a feeling this man intended to have his say, and there might be shooting otherwise.

"For destroying Entrene I owe you a debt," His eyes clouded, and he looked past them, to some space far distant, perhaps beyond the galaxy itself. "It should never have gotten this far. I could have stopped it long ago, and spared all the suffering the taint on the Empire's name, but I was not strong enough, I feared for my life, a foolish thing, and my career, a pathetic thing, so I went along with it. That is done with now, I have blocked Entrene's attempts to transmit his competed research data to Imperial center and erased all copies from the system." Kamick felt a great sense of relief, he had not even considered that possibility. This man had done an immense good. "But I will finish this with all debts clear."

There was a premonition of sadness, but strangely no regret behind those words. "What do you intend to do?"

"You have damaged my ship considerably," Captain Ruskar explained. "She is now trapped in the system and there are no men to repair her. Even if I kill you now, there are surely resistance members en route. They will try to take the ship. I will not allow that. Whatever perversions she was put through, this is a good ship, and she will not be turned against the Empire." The captain paused. He took a deep, slow breath before continuing. "My remaining men have been ordered to take escape pods and abandon ship. A single shuttle remains in the cargo hangar. As a discharge of my debt to you, and in return for the promise that all surviving Imperial personnel in this system will be given safe passage to Imperial hands I will allow you to take it."

"And if we refuse?"

"I will kill you here and now, and then I will set the turbolasers to auto-fire at random targets on the planet below for so long as power remains," He said solemnly.

"Then I guess we don't have much of a choice but to accept," Kamick admitted. He bet even if they somehow killed the captain he had programmed the ship's computer to carry out the threat automatically. "But what will you do after we leave? If the ship can't leave the system, what is to stop us from coming back and taking it?"

"The _Arcane Lash_ will not serve any resistance against the Empire," Captain Ruskar said sternly. "Ultimately, we must triumph here. I suspect you can figure out the particulars. Now, get...off...my ship."

It was a long walk to the shuttle, one of the standard Lambda models. The vessel stank of fear and suffering, for it had been used to haul nighten from the surface, but it powered up cleanly under Drado's command and launched easily.

Kamick brought a rear monitor view as they left. As they began atmospheric re-entry, the _Arcane Lash_ blew apart.

"So passes an honorable warrior," Drado whispered as they watched the results of the self-destruct. "A pity the Emperor has coerced so many to serve him."

The Zeison Sha could only agree, and rest quietly on the slow descent to the surface.

**Chapter Notes**


	29. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Shuttle Mystic Coil, Renigh**

**Kalat Arm**

**Unknown Regions**

**1 BBY**

In the end, Kamick found it rather embarrassing that out of the whole group Cyc was the only one healthy enough to enjoy the Sacred Army's victory feast. The rest of them were laid up on cots being ministered to by several of the nighten's force sensitive healers. It was a slow process to full recovery, though Ji would bear a a brutal set of scars to her left side at least until she could have them surgically removed. The deputy rather suspected she would keep them.

Ji mentioned that their wounds at least kept them isolated from flocks of admirers. In a moment of honesty she confessed she did not think she could face them. Though the Battle of Iron Gateway was considered a great victory over ten thousand nighten soldiers had been killed in battle, and many more wounded. Her fight with the super-soldiers was already the stuff of legend, and she found the adoration excessive.

Chloe was, thankfully, unscathed, and had done well in battle. Kamick saw a great deal of her while recovering, enjoying the news she brought of greater events, and also simply her company.

She was there a week after the fighting when Cyc walked in on them all. "I've got signal contact, there's a Starchaser in orbit with a Zeison Sha named Brener aboard. Seems the Discblade Alliance is finally checking up on us. You two are about ready for light exercise," Drado had been functional after only two days rest, the Kyuzo's toughness was impressive as usual. "So I suppose it's good timing."

"What happens now?" He honestly had not planned much after leaving _Arcane Lash_, and had been content to simply coast for a while.

Ji sat up on her cot. "Many things," She answered. "We shall have to arrange to transport the imperial prisoners home as promised, and maintain the secrecy of this world while doing so. There will be many negotiations to follow. The nighten shall have to deal with the rest of the galaxy from now on, there will be no hiding them. That is going to be complicated." Kamick suspected Ji knew she was going to be roped into it, and had little desire for a such a role. "There will be debriefings on what happened here, though I hope you all agree to be suitably vague as to the details."

Kamick nodded, and Cyc did too. There was some knowledge best buried deep.

The noblewoman smile briefly. "Excellent, beyond such perfunctory matters, there is nothing specific that must be done. Cyc, your contract is up," Ji looked neither pleased nor displeased with this outcome. "As you are a freelancer, you are free to do as you wish."

"I'll stick around for a while," The droid answered readily. "There's plenty to study here before moving on to other projects, but I'll go back to Smuggler's Run eventually. I don't see Imperial employment in my future ever again, but I think I've already taken sides in an organic's war more than I ever intended."

Kamick would have hoped for more, but he couldn't fault Cyc much. The droid had put forward a lot of energy already. Ji might have earned the credit, but his ingenuity had been just as essential at Iron Gateway. "Maybe someday it will be your cause," Kamick offered with a smile.

"It is impossible to calculate what the future holds," Cyc shrugged.

"What will you do Kamick?" Ji asked him, sounding curious. "You are part of the Discblade Alliance now, and Zeison Sha as well," Ji had absorbed Drado's testimony of events on Arcane Lash, and her attitude towards him had changed, subtly but significantly. He wasn't sure he liked it, not quite. I might have done something extraordinary, he recognized. But I couldn't do it again, and though the Force is there, I still have a lot to learn. "There are many places were your service would be welcome."

"I need to go home," It was the first thing that popped into his mind, but it felt absolutely correct. "My family thinks I'm dead, and I should never have let that happen in the first place." I had my reasons, but they weren't good ones. I needed to do this, but I didn't need to let it lie, I just didn't think I could avoid the pull honestly. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. "Then I'll go somewhere with other Zeison Sha, there's still a lot to learn. Maybe Yanibar," He'd heard a lot about the world where the tradition had been born. "I wouldn't mind a desert for a little while again."

"You're leaving?" Chloe said suddenly from his side. Kamick, startled, turned her way. He'd practically forgotten the shade knight was present, she was so good at listening silently. "But...we need you here, I want," She stopped, blushing, then overrode propriety and embarrassment both. "I want you to stay!"

Kamick caught Drado chuckling and Ji with a suspicious hand over her mouth. "I can't stay," He knew he couldn't. The Empire is everywhere, and the fight goes on; the hand that carries the shield is likely to log many miles and get rather tired. "My duty leads me elsewhere." The disappointment on Chloe's face was palpable, and he felt it echo in him. Rut it, I do like her, armor and all. He'd miss her and it would hurt for a while. Then he had an idea. "You could come with me."

"What?" The shade knight was dumbstruck.

"Chloe," Kamick looked straight into her dark eyes. "You can use the Force, you could be Zeison Sha if you wanted. That's surely enough reason for a little traveling don't you think?"

"But, but," She vacillated, clearly torn between choices. "I am a Shade Knight, I have duties, and-"

"I am certain the Duke will release you from duties here," Ji interjected, to Kamick's great surprise, he had not thought she would interfere in personal matters. "And Renigh is a world of the Kalat Arm now, there will be a need for nighten to go out and experience life as citizens of the galaxy and representatives of their people. A capable warrior such as yourself, and perhaps Zeison Sha, would be ideal for such a role."

It was slightly manipulative, Kamick recognized the noblewoman's touch now, but it was also the truth.

"Then I'll go with you," Chloe grasped his hand in her gauntlets and squeezed tightly. "I can protect my people out there, and see everything."

"It will be some days yet before preparations are complete," Ji looked at them both, rising to her feet and shuffling over to the cot. Kamick rose to meet her. "But I will take this opportunity to say farewells now." She pressed her hands together in front and bowed deeply. "I has been a pleasure to serve with you Chloe Vell, Kamick Travan." She rose up and extended a hand. "Thank you for everything, Kam."

Kamick blushed, she'd never called him by the nickname before, and doubted she ever would again. "Me too," He told her. "You're a great officer Jia Ji, and anyone would be proud to serve with you. Don't doubt yourself, and you'll be fine."

Ji bowed her head again, but then looked back up with clear eyes. "These are dangerous days, and many friends can be lost in distant places, but we have come through fire and ice and survived. The galaxy is vast, but also smaller than it seems. I believe we will meet again in time."

"We'd better," Drado, lounging against the shuttle's wall, interjected. "You owe me a hat, Warrior."

They all laughed then, and Chloe hugged him tightly, but Kamick's mind wandered.

If survival is a war, I think this is what victory might feel like.

**Chapter Notes**


End file.
